


black irises

by zero_miles



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Developing Relationship, M/M, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, and STILL more tags to be added next chapter!!, like i've lost count, model!johnny, pop star!Taeil, so many idol cameos, warning: things are not always what they seem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2020-10-18 17:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_miles/pseuds/zero_miles
Summary: Johnny thinks he's finally about to get his big break when he's cast as the love interest in a music video despite having no acting skills to speak of.Nothing could have ever prepared him for what comes next.





	1. put it on me

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi!! two things to get out of the way before we get started:
> 
> \- first: a huge huge HUGE thank you to kerrie for beta'ing and for being so supportive while i've been working on this beast!
> 
> \- two: this story will get heavier as it progresses. i will update the tags as we go along, please pay attention to them each chapter!

If it wasn’t for the fact that Johnny’s known Taeyong ever since they were babies in diapers growing up on the same street back in Chicago, he would have fired him years ago. As it is, he considers it again every single time Taeyong summons him to his office for a meeting and acts like said office is anything besides the spare bedroom in his apartment.

“Have a seat,” Taeyong says, gesturing to the couch in his living room as if it’s a real waiting room. “It’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Tae, I can literally see your office from where I’m sitting,” Johnny sighs, but he sits down on the couch anyways. Exasperating or not, Taeyong’s sacrificed a lot for him. Not to mention the whole ‘twenty-five years of friendship and counting’ thing.

(At least they’re not roommates anymore. That had been a bad, bad idea.) 

Taeyong points at him. “Yes, and while I’m usually not doing anything when I tell you to come see me, I actually have a phone call I need to get back to! A very, very important phone call. So sit tight, Johnny,” he instructs.

“I’m literally your only client, Tae, you can’t be that busy,” Johnny calls as Taeyong darts back to his office.

“Not for much longer! I’ve almost talked Yuta into giving modelling a shot, I just know it,” Taeyong retorts, slamming the door much more forcefully than Johnny’s comment truly warranted.

Johnny rolls his eyes and sinks back into the couch cushions. Of course Taeyong’s almost talked Yuta into trying to be a model; it’s no secret to anyone but Taeyong himself that Yuta would do anything for him. One day Taeyong will open his eyes to what’s right in front of him—or more likely, one day Yuta will snap and either kill him or kiss him, and Johnny hopes he’s there when it happens. 

Taeyong’s phone call doesn’t take much longer, and he’s smiling in that way he does sometimes that kind of reminds Johnny of a shark when he opens the door to his office again and beckons Johnny inside. He’s seen that smile before, and the last time it had ended up with Johnny shooting a bunch of commercials for some Japanese toothpaste company. It had been an awkward experience, but it had paid his rent for six months, so Johnny’s feeling kind of optimistic as he takes the seat next to Taeyong’s desk.

“So,” Taeyong says, bouncing in his seat, “I just booked you a job for next week. A big one, too.”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “You booked me a job without consulting me first? Doesn’t that go against the manager code or something?”

Taeyong snorts, dismissive. “Not when the manager has known you your entire life, and not when the manager knows you would take the job anyways,” he says simply, sliding a sheet of paper still warm from the printer towards Johnny. “Flight details.”

“Flight details?” Johnny echoes, confused. Even the shoot for the toothpaste commercials had taken place in Manhattan. “I have a job in Seattle?”

“Yeah, the company wants the whole moody rainy city thing for this music video,” Taeyong tells him, and Johnny sets the paper back down to glare at him.

“I’m going to have to act? Again?” Johnny screeches. “In a  _ music video _ ?” At least the toothpaste commercials had been, well, literally him brushing his fucking teeth and then smiling for the camera for ten seconds at a time. Acting in a music video? Taeyong should know what a bad idea this is. He suffered through Johnny’s drama club stint in high school, after all.

Taeyong just grins. “Yeah, you’re going to have to act. In a music video. But, I did the math for you already, and after taxes and after my cut you’re still going to walk away with like two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Now do you see why I said yes on your behalf?” he asks, smug, when Johnny’s jaw drops.

That’s more money than Johnny made last year. That’s probably more money than Johnny made the last two years  _ combined _ , and he does pretty well for himself these days. It’s enough that he would finally feel secure enough to actually move to a nicer apartment, instead of just thinking about it every time the hot water runs out before he finishes showering. “I get it, yeah. Are you coming with me?”

“Of course I’m coming with you,” Taeyong scoffs. “I’ve never been to Seattle, and this is a good opportunity for me to do some networking. I even had them cover my travel expenses as part of your contract and everything.”

“Is that allowed?” Johnny wonders out loud.

“Apparently, because it’s literally here, in writing,” Taeyong says, picking up a stack of papers that had been lying next to his elbow and handing them to Johnny. “Read over that, sign the dotted line if you’re okay with all the provisions, and I’ll scan it and send it back to the company by the end of the day.”

Johnny frowns. “Didn’t you just tell me you accepted the job on my behalf?”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t still have to sign the contract, Johnny,” Taeyong says patiently, like he’s explaining something to a small child. “I swear to god, I should have made you take business classes with me when you roped me into being your manager so your dumb ass wouldn’t still be so clueless.”

“You literally offered,” Johnny reminds him.

“Yes, because someone was going to take advantage of you if I left you to your own devices,” Taeyong sighs. “Please read the contract and let me know if you want any changes made before you sign it. Do  _ not _ sign it if there is something you want changed, either,” he adds.

Johnny rolls his eyes, because even if he doesn’t have as much knowledge about the business side of the industry, he would have at least known  _ that _ . “I don’t want to share a room with you,” he says, skimming the contact, “but besides that everything looks fine to me.”

“Do you really think you’ll have enough time for random hookups while we’re there? Don’t answer that,” Taeyong sighs again. “I know you, you probably will. Fine. Stay put, hopefully I can get them to send me a new contract before you leave.”

Johnny chews on the side of his thumb anxiously as he watches Taeyong fire off an email to whoever he’s been in contact with. If the client is willing to pay him three hundred thousand dollars, plus expenses, surely asking for a second hotel room won’t be a deal breaker, right? It can’t be. But it’s the predominant thought running through Johnny’s head, and he’s just about to tell Taeyong never mind, he’ll sign the contract as is, when Taeyong clicks his mouse key with a flourish.

“Done!”

“Done as in you sent the email, or done as if they’ve agreed to the changes?” Johnny asks warily.

“At the moment, done as in the email is sent. But calm down, Johnny. That’s such a minor change that if they make a big fuss out of it, you don’t want to work for them anyway.”

Johnny pulls his thumb away from his mouth and winces at how red it is. “Yes I would, for that money.”

Taeyong makes a dismissive noise. “No, you wouldn’t, because they’d probably jerk you around when it came time to pay you. You’d have to fire me if that’s the case, and your mother would be upset with you if you did.”

“Ugh,” Johnny scowls, but he knows Taeyong’s right. “I guess I better pray that they’re fine with that change then, huh?”

“No need,” Taeyong says, leaning forward to squint at his computer screen because of course he’s not wearing his glasses or contacts again today. “They’re fine with it, they’re amending the contract right now.”

Johnny sags with relief. “So, we’re going to Seattle next week then?”

“We’re going to Seattle next week,” Taeyong confirms. “You excited?”

“Excited and scared,” Johnny admits. This could be the big break he’s been waiting for ever since he decided to focus on modelling instead of the career he, you know, was going to college for. Or it could end in disaster and he’ll never get a job in the industry again. Who knows? Either way, this job is probably going to end up changing his life in one way or the other. “Hey, wait.”

“What is it?” Taeyong asks, spinning around in his chair to face him.

“You said this is for a music video, right? Whose video is it?”

Taeyong’s silent for a moment too long. “Don’t know,” he says, and Johnny knows he’s not telling the truth. “Does it matter, though?”

It should matter, honestly. But Taeyong, by virtue of being Johnny’s best friend his entire life, is also the person Johnny trusts most on this planet save for his mother, probably. Taeyong wouldn’t let him walk into a bad situation completely blind, so if he feels the need to withhold this seriously pertinent information, he has to have his reasons. Even if those reasons are just to fuck with Johnny a little, they’re still valid.

“Not really,” Johnny concedes.

Taeyong smiles his shark smile again. “Didn’t think so.”

* * *

“Wake up,” Taeyong whispers, elbowing Johnny in the side with a sharp elbow. “I think we’re there.”

“Probably just more traffic,” Johnny mumbles, refusing to open his eyes. “Wake me up when we’re actually there, Yongie.”

Taeyong makes an exasperated noise. “We’re actually here. Wake up,” he tells Johnny, elbowing him again.

Johnny groans, flinging an arm over his face. Their flight out of New York the day before had been cancelled due to a series of unrelenting thunderstorms; Taeyong had managed to get them re-booked onto a later flight somehow (Johnny suspects he placed a phone call or two to his contacts at the record label) but hadn’t taken off until almost 9:00pm. By the time they’d made it their hotel in Seattle, checked in, and actually made it to their rooms, it had been well after one in the morning. But to Johnny, used to New York time, that one am had seemed like five am, and it had felt like he'd just closed his eyes when Taeyong barged into his room at the crack of dawn to wake him up. His reflection in the mirror had left Johnny cringing at himself, and he’s already fearful of what the makeup artists on set might have to say about his appearance. Last time he’d showed up at a job looking even half this exhausted, the wardrobe assistant had smacked him on the back of the head with her clipboard.

“I’m so tired,” Johnny whines.

“You think I’m not?” Taeyong retorts. He’s got a point, but he doesn’t look nearly as tired as Johnny himself does even though he’d had to have woken up at least half an hour before him. That is, if he’d even slept at all. He might not have, since Taeyong doesn’t sleep well in unfamiliar places.

“How much coffee have you had today?” Johnny asks as the car pulls into a parking spot behind what looks like an old brick warehouse.

“One,” Taeyong lies.

Johnny shakes his head. “Somewhere in Chicago a chill just went down your mother’s spine because of that lie. How much coffee have you  _ really _ had today?”

“Three and a half,” Taeyong relents. “But I only slept like two hours last night so it’s fine.”

Johnny rolls his eyes as he opens the door. Fine his ass; Taeyong’s going to be vibrating at this rate, but it’s not his job to look after Taeyong like it is Taeyong’s job to look after him so whatever.

“John Seo?” A harried looking woman clutching a clipboard shouts before Johnny’s even finished climbing out of the car.

“That’s me,” Johnny answers, smiling at her. After a moment of consideration, he throws in a wink too—she’s kinda cute. She squeaks and clutches her clipboard closer to her chest, and Johnny’s smile deepens.

Taeyong slams the door of the car closed forcefully enough that Johnny half expects the driver to leap out to yell at him. “Johnny,” he hisses.

“Are you here to bring me to where I need to go?” Johnny asks the woman, ignoring the daggers he can feel Taeyong glaring into the back of his skull.

“Um. No, I’m not,” the woman says, sounding a little flustered.

Johnny sighs exaggeratedly. “Oh, that’s a shame,” he simpers.

“I can, though!” she says quickly. “It would be more...expedient, if I did,” she says, like she’s trying to rationalize it to herself.

“It absolutely would be, I’m sure,” Johnny agrees, reaching out to rub her arm in a way that he knows straddles the fine line between  _ friendly _ and  _ flirtatious _ once he’s close enough. Taeyong makes a disgusted sound but doesn’t say a word. Not that he really can right now since they have an audience, anyway, but Johnny knows he’ll be hearing about this later. “Lead the way?”

The woman glances down at Johnny’s hand, still lingering on her arm. “Sure. Um, follow me,” she says, striding forward purposefully enough that Johnny has no choice but to let his arm drop.

“No funny business,” Taeyong hisses, keeping pace with Johnny even with his tiny ass legs. “You’re here to be professional.”

“I’m networking,” Johnny grins, quietly enough that the woman won’t be able to hear them.

If looks could kill, Johnny would be incinerated right now. “You can’t network with your dick, asshole.”

“I can and you know it,” Johnny retorts. He’d gotten one of his biggest gigs to date based off a tip about an audition from a guy he used to have a friends with benefits relationship with—granted, he hadn’t known that guy’s sister was a casting director for a national magazine when they’d started hooking up, but that’s beside the point.

“Sometimes I really hate you, you know that?” Taeyong sighs again as they’re forced to slow down to keep from running into the woman ahead of them as she stops to open a door. He’s scowling, and it only deepens when Johnny makes a kissy face at him just to watch his eye twitch.

“This is where makeup and wardrobe are,” the woman says, oblivious to what’s happening behind her. “Since we’ve got such a small shooting space, you’ll be sharing with Taeil. I hope that’s alright.”

“It’s fine. There’s no such thing as personal fitting rooms at runway shows. I’m used to it,” Johnny assures her, his mind racing. Surely she can’t mean Taeil Moon? Taeyong would have told him about  _ that _ , right?

Apparently not, because sure enough, Taeil Moon spins around in his chair to see who’s coming in when the door opens, and Johnny nearly chokes. He makes a sputtering noise before he can stop himself, and watches as Taeil Moon’s eyebrows shoot up onto his forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asks, genuinely concerned, and Johnny kind of wants to die for a moment. He’s seen his own reflection in the mirror today, okay. He knows he looks like absolute hell, and yet he’s standing five feet away from a man who might possibly be his celebrity crush, if Johnny had one of those that is. He can also hear Taeyong trying to stifle a laugh beside him, and Johnny thinks that he might actually fire him for real when they get back to New York for this.

“Bumped into the doorframe, but I’m good,” Johnny lies. Taeil Moon’s mouth twitches, like he’s also trying to hold back a smile, and Johnny sighs heavily. “Not a good lie, huh?”

Taeil Moon shakes his head. “Not really, no, but I was going to let you get away with it,” he says kindly.

The woman who’d led them to the dressing room clears her throat. “Right. Johnny, if you’ll just sit in that empty chair on Taeil’s other side, someone will be here to get you ready to go shortly. I’ll see you around...?” she trails off, a little suggestively.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other during the shoot,” Johnny agrees, sitting down in the chair he’d been directed to. “Thanks for your help, though,” he adds, smiling brightly—just because he no longer has any interest in flirting with her now that he’s sitting three feet from Taeil Moon doesn’t mean he can’t still be polite, after all. His mother raised him better than that.

Taeyong, who had followed him across the room, puts his hands on Johnny’s shoulders in a way that he knows looks friendly to outsiders, but is actually quite painful thanks to the force behind Taeyong’s grip. “Relax,” he hisses. “You look like you’re going to vibrate right out of your skin.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny whispers back.

“Be honest, would you have slept last night if you’d known?”

No, Johnny wouldn’t have slept. Not that he got a ton of sleep last night, but had he known he’d be starring in  _ Taeil Moon’s _ latest music video, he wouldn’t have slept a wink. “I suppose you’ve got me there,” Johnny concedes. “Now please go away.”

Taeyong releases his grip on Johnny’s shoulders. “Only because I need more coffee,” he says, taking a step back. “You thirsty?”

“Not for water,” Johnny says mindlessly. It doesn’t hit him what, exactly, he had just said out loud until he hears Taeyong groan and Taeil Moon stifle a laugh next to him. “Oh, no,” he says, horrorstruck.

Taeil Moon twists in his chair again until he’s facing Johnny and leans forward. “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu right now, but maybe if you play your cards right I might be later.” Johnny’s jaw drops and he glances around the room reflexively to see who else might have just heard that statement, even though he  _ knows _ that the only person in the room right now besides the two of them is Taeyong.

“Oh my fucking god,” Taeyong groans. “On second thought, I’m not going anywhere.” He throws himself down on a couch against the back wall so dramatically that Johnny wonders briefly if Taeyong shouldn’t be the one acting in a video today and fixes Johnny with a glare. “Behave.”

Johnny doesn’t know if the statement is directed at him or directed at Taeil Moon. He also doesn’t know if it even matters right now. Thankfully, Johnny’s saved from having to respond to either Taeyong or Taeil Moon’s earlier come-on by a group of women chattering loudly walk in. A couple of them are carrying small suitcases, so Johnny assumes they must be the stylists. Taeil Moon greets them all by name, because of course he does. Johnny definitely doesn’t swoon, not even when Taeil Moon asks one of them about her son, whose name he also knows.

“Hey,” Johnny says, leaning over in his chair much like Taeil Moon had earlier when the stylists begin to busy themselves with unpacking their equipment, “I’m Johnny by the way. Johnny Seo.”

Taeil Moon’s mouth curves up into a smile. “I know who you are.”

Johnny blinks. “Wait, what?”

“I follow your Instagram on my private account,” Taeil Moon answers, still smiling. “Didn’t know they were hiring you, though. That was a nice surprise. Oh, is it time?” he asks the stylist now fussing with his hair.

“It’s time. Sit still and be quiet,” the stylist tells him fondly.

The stylist who’d been unpacking her equipment on the counter in front of Johnny turns to him and makes a noise of disapproval. “You look exhausted, honey,” she says bluntly.

“I know,” Johnny winces. “We flew in from New York last night and didn’t get to our hotel until early this morning.”

“I’ve seen worse,” the stylist shrugs after scrutinizing him for a long moment. “Now, don’t move until I tell you to, alright?”

“Alright,” Johnny agrees. He relaxes into the chair, letting her work her magic. She talks to him while she works, mainly to compliment his skin routine—Taeyong makes a pleased noise from behind them at that, as he should, considering that Johnny just uses whatever products Taeyong leaves in his bathroom for him—or to ask him about what the model life is like. Johnny’s pretty sure she expected something a lot more glamorous than what he tells her, but it’s not like it’s his fault that the entertainment industry is nothing like it’s portrayed on TV or in the movies.

After what seems like no time at all, really, the stylist takes a step back and gives Johnny a considering look. “I think we’re done here, hon,” she says, stepping to the side to Johnny can see his own reflection in the mirror. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he was wearing no makeup at all, but it’s not like the dark smudges under his eyes had disappeared all on their own in half an hour’s time. 

“Are you a miracle worker?” Johnny asks, only half joking.

“I’ll never tell,” the stylist jokes. “Sasha, are you done with Taeil?” she asks, craning her head to look at the stylist working on Taeil Moon.

“Yep,” the other stylist says, setting down the fluffy brush in her hand. “Looks like it’s time for the two of you to go meet with the director to find out what scenes he wants you to shoot today before wardrobe gets here..”

The nerves that Johnny’s managed to keep at bay most of the morning come back full force. “Yep. Sure. That’s cool.”

Taeil Moon laughs. “He’s not scary, Johnny. It’ll be fine.”

Weirdly enough, Johnny honestly feels a little less nervous. Usually not even Taeyong can calm down his pre-shoot jitters, and he’s never had a shoot with as much at stake before as this one. “If you say so,” he allows.

Taeil Moon springs out of his chair and holds out a hand to Johnny. “Well, let’s go,” he says expectantly.

Johnny blinks dumbly up at him. “Now? Don’t we have to wait for someone to show us where to go?”

“I know where to go,” Taeil Moon says patiently, still holding out a hand. “We don’t need a babysitter, come on.”

Johnny allows Taeil Moon to haul him to his feet after he gives Taeyong a furtive glance. Taeyong’s glaring a little, probably thinking terrible thoughts about what might happen if he leaves Johnny alone with Taeil Moon for too long, but he makes no move to interfere. “Lead the way, then,” Johnny tells him. 

He thinks he hears Taeyong whisper one last  _ behave _ as Taeil Moon leads him out of the room, but Johnny ignores him in favor of focusing on the fact that Taeil Moon hasn’t bothered to let go of his hand. It’s a much nicer thought than thinking about how his manager slash best friend is probably going to murder him by the end of the week, after all. Or about how he’s on his way to meet the director, which is terrifying. Yeah, blocking out all other thoughts besides how warm his hand against Taeil Moon's is definitely Johnny’s best option right now.

The man that Taeil Moon brings him to can’t be much older than Johnny himself is, if anything, but he’s got a friendly smile and is clearly passionate when he talks about what he wants from them over the course of the next three days. There’s not a script, which Johnny had kind of assumed since Taeyong had never given him one, but his relief is short lived since the director  _ does  _ tell them point blank that there will be several kissing scenes in the video—apparently Johnny’s been hired to play Taeil Moon’s cheating ex-boyfriend. Which just figures, and strengthens Johnny’s resolve to fire Taeyong the second they get back to New York.

But then again—maybe not, because Taeil Moon  _ licks his lips  _ and smirks at Johnny before saying that he thinks they’re going to have a lot of fun over the next three days. Firing Taeyong might be on hold. 

_ Maybe _ .

* * *

“Don’t you dare fuck him,” Taeyong says that night once they’re back at their hotel.

Johnny pretends to inspect his nails. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” Taeyong says, and Johnny doesn’t need to be looking at him to know that Taeyong’s clenching his teeth right now. He can hear it in his voice.

“Hmm, I didn’t hear a word, actually,” Johnny says flippantly. It’s not like he really thinks he has a chance with Taeil (the ‘date’ they’d went on for the video shoot that afternoon had broken the ice between them enough that Johnny doesn’t feel weird about calling him  _ Taeil  _ in his head anymore, at least), despite the fact that the man had been obviously flirtatious with him since the moment they’d met, but it’s not like he’s going to do something crazy like promise Taeyong he wouldn’t hook up with Taeil if the opportunity arose either.

Taeyong makes a sound of exasperation that vividly reminds Johnny of his own mother. “Johnny.”

“Taeyong,” Johnny echoes, finally looking up at him. Not only was he right about Taeyong having his jaw clenched, but he’s also pinching the bridge of his nose in a way that looks like it hurts. He’s not pacing around the room though, so Johnny knows that his exasperation hasn’t tipped over into genuine anger yet.

“Fine. Don’t you dare fuck him before the shoot ends,” Taeyong says, moving his hand to give Johnny the evil eye.

“Alright,” Johnny agrees easily. Doing so would be unprofessional, and besides, arguing here probably would push Taeyong over the line to angry and an angry Taeyong isn’t something Johnny wants to deal with at the end of a very long day when he’s still jet lagged. “I promise not to fuck him until after the shoot ends.”

“I didn’t ask you to promise me that,” Taeyong says, sounding surprised.

“I know, but I did anyways,” Johnny shrugs. He hasn’t broken a promise he’s made to Taeyong since they were in the third grade, and he’s not about to start now. He knows Taeyong knows it, too. “Feel better now?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong breathes, collapsing onto Johnny’s bed, splaying out in a way that makes him look like a starfish. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Not that it matters anyways, I doubt anything’s going to happen there.”

Taeyong chuckles, of all things. “I think you’re wrong.”

“I hope you’re right,” Johnny says wistfully. “I really do.”

* * *

Taeyong’s right. 

Well. Johnny thinks he’s right by the start of the last day of filming anyway, and he’s  _ pretty _ sure it’s not just wishful thinking.

The director had had them film on their own for the first half of the shoot on the second day of filming—for Johnny, it meant mostly sitting on the edge of a bed set up in a corner of the warehouse and acting upset, which hadn’t been hard. He’d even gotten up and started pacing at one point out of instinct, which the director had commended him for, because it had apparently added to the whole ‘tortured soul’ thing they were going for. It had been a little weird, but mostly Johnny had just been relieved that he hadn’t had to walk outside in the pouring rain like Taeil had had to. 

The second half of the shoot, though—

“Wow,” the director had breathed out after he’d called cut on the fourth take. “You two have insane chemistry. I don’t even think we need to shoot this part again.”

Taeil, sprawled out on his back on the same bed Johnny had been sitting on that morning, had winked up at him and called, “I think we should try again just to be safe, don’t you?” His lips were swollen and red, indicative of how they’d probably gotten a little carried away, and Johnny had wanted to kiss him again immediately, their audience and professionalism be damned.

“Practice makes perfect, right?” Johnny had agreed, powerless to say no when Taeil was literally  _ laying underneath him _ . Not even Taeyong’s audible scowl had been enough for him to change his mind. 

But not even Taeil had been able to convince the director that they needed to film the two of them rolling around on a bed and making out any longer after the seventh take, which had led to them being done for the scene a lot earlier than anyone had anticipated; apparently, the director had scheduled up to four hours to get the scene right when they had gotten it done in less than one. Johnny had been dismissed for the day afterwards, but on his way out after changing back into his street clothes Taeil had grabbed him by the arm and tugged him into a corner so he could stand up on his tiptoes and whisper  _ imagine how good we’d be together behind closed doors if it was like that with a room of people watching us _ directly into his ear.

Yeah, Johnny’s pretty  _ pretty  _ sure that Taeil wants to sleep with him by now.

Taeyong is visibly on edge when the car sent to their hotel drives them to the shooting location the last morning, and Johnny can’t understand why. 

“You need to calm down, Tae,” he says quietly, putting his hand on Taeyong’s knee and squeezing reassuringly. He watches as Taeyong visibly shudders and closes his eyes, and Johnny knows that he’s trying to put himself together. “If everything goes well, we’ll be done by three today, they said.”

“ _ If _ ,” Taeyong echoes. “That’s a pretty big word, you know. So much could happen today. Someone could crash into the warehouse and ruin the shoot. The director might get lost. You might forget yourself and hook up with Ta—with  _ you know who  _ in a supply closet somewhere. Who knows?”

“Are we in Harry Potter now? Is Taeil secretly Lord Voldemort?” Johnny laughs, hoping that pointing out how ridiculous Taeyong’s being in his opinion right now might help the other man relax a little. Taeyong opens his eyes and pouts a little, a touch petulantly, and Johnny knows that the joke had the effect he was aiming for. “But seriously,” he continues, “none of that is going to happen. The warehouse is far off the street. The director isn’t going to get lost, and even if he did, he has like a dozen minions who could film for a while if they had to. And I promised you I’m not going to hook up with him until the shoot is over. You know how I feel about promises.”

Taeyong sighs, slumping against the back of the seat. “I know. I just feel like everything’s gone so well and I’m just waiting on the other shoe to drop. That’s all.”

“Both shoes have been solidly on the ground the entire time,” Johnny says cheerfully as the car turns into the parking lot of the warehouse. Taeyong mutters something about Johnny being  _ too much of a goddamn optimist _ , which is maybe true but isn’t that what Taeyong’s literal job description is? To worry about all of the what ifs so Johnny himself doesn’t have to?

The same set assistant who’d greeted them the first day is waiting outside for them again, and luckily for Johnny she doesn’t seem put out by the fact that he’d flirted with her before bringing it to an abrupt halt the second he’d laid eyes on Taeil. Either she’s used to it, or she’s a good person. Either are possible.

“It’s the last day,” she says, already turning towards the doors. “You excited?”

“Excited, relieved, both fit,” Johnny says, hurrying to keep up with her. He’s excited that the project is almost complete and that it  _ has  _ gone so well, but relieved that it’s almost over and that he’ll be back in his own space tomorrow night. Staying in hotels and other unfamiliar spaces for too long tends to make him feel itchy, and last night being the third night of hotel life has him about at the end of his rope. “We could have found our own way to the dressing room today, though.”

“Nah,” she laughs. “Can’t be too careful. Good luck today!” she adds, waving goodbye as she leaves him and Taeyong standing in front of the door to the wardrobe area.

“Thanks,” Johnny answers, and ducks into the room quietly just in case the stylists are already there. They’re not, but Taeil is. Unlike the last two mornings, he looks like he’s about ready to fall asleep sitting in his chair, his head bowed forward in a way that has to be hell on his neck. He snaps to attention when he hears the chair next to him creak as Johnny sits in it, and his expression visibly relaxes when he sees it’s just Johnny and Taeyong in the room.

“Morning,” Taeil mumbles. Slurs, a little. His eyes are also kind of red and swollen, and Johnny reconsiders his previous assessment—Taeil was probably  _ actually  _ asleep when they walked in.

“Morning, buttercup,” Johnny replies, pleased by the shy smile that spreads across Taeil’s face at the endearment. The confident, cocky Taeil that had bid him goodbye yesterday afternoon is nowhere to be seen, and Johnny finds that he likes this softer version of the man sitting next to him just as much. “How long until the makeup artists get here?”

“Twenty minutes or so,” Taeil answers around a yawn. Johnny falls quiet, not wanting to be a bother when Taeil’s so obviously tired. He doesn’t know Taeil well enough to know if he’s decent company when he’s exhausted or not, after all.

So it’s a surprise when Taeil suddenly sits up straight in his chair and says, “Talk to me? If we just sit here and stay quiet I’ll fall asleep.”

“I thought that was the point,” Johnny admits, and Taeyong snorts from the couch behind them. “Did you not sleep well last night?”

“I had a late night,” Taeil says, darting his eyes towards the open door briefly. “Never mind about all that, though. It’s not important. And I’m sure you’ve got something else you’d rather talk about.”

He’s not wrong. There are so many things that Johnny wants to talk to him about. But they don’t have a lot of time, and—this is the big one—they’re at work right now. Johnny’s not a hot shot celebrity like Taeil is, so he pretty much has no choice but to keep things professional right now. “There has been something I’ve been wondering about…” Johnny trails off.

“What?” Taeil prompts.

“Okay, so when I took the job I pretty much figured that it would be for a female singer’s video, you know? How did you convince your label to let you have a guy as your love interest?”

Taeil frowns a little, and Johnny knows he wasn’t expecting that question. Taeyong stays silent, so Johnny knows he’s just as curious himself even if he’d never admit it.

“You don’t have to answer me,” Johnny starts when the silence drags on longer than he’d expected it to, but Taeil shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I—god. Okay. You’re a fan of mine, right? So you know I’m bi, right?” Taeil asks. When Johnny nods warily, he continues. “Well, my label isn’t totally happy about the fact that I’m out, but I was out when they signed me and it’s not like I can go back into the closet. Not that I want to, but also, I couldn’t. But they wish I could, and they’ve been forcing me to keep any relationships I have with other guys secret.”

“That’s shitty,” Johnny sympathizes, wincing a little. At least in the modeling industry, no one gives a fuck what you do in your personal life as long as you can be professional while you work. Not to mention that he’s pretty sure Taeyong would rip the throat out of anyone who  _ tried  _ to pressure Johnny into being someone he isn’t.

Taeil sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, it is, and I’m tired of it. I had a radio interview one day when I was kind of fed up with the label, my management, everyone, really, and I ended up telling the interviewers that the lead single off my next album was about my ex-boyfriend. I know,” he says, when he sees Johnny cringe, “I know. I got read the riot act for that one. But then some PR person said that it would get a lot of good publicity if they leaned into it and cast a man as the love interest, former love interest, whatever, so here we are.”

“They’re not wrong, but it sucks that they’re kind of using your sexuality as a prop like this,” Taeyong says from behind them, and Johnny sees how Taeil startles. He’d probably forgotten that Taeyong was even in the room, Johnny thinks.

“Yeah,” Taeil agrees, his entire body sagging. “But that’s the entertainment industry for you, I guess. But it’s not all bad. I get to do what I love and share my music with millions of people, you know? Most people don’t get this lucky. Maybe one day I can switch to a different label that gives me more freedom, but for now these are the cards I’ve been dealt.”

The mood in the room’s shifted into a heavy, pensive one, and Johnny hates it. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Both for the shit you have to deal with and for asking about it. It was too personal, right?” he jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little. “I really should have known better.”

Taeil stares at him for a long moment, and Johnny watches as his tongue darts out to trace his lower lip. “You can get as personal with me as you want, you know,” he says, voice dropping an octave, and Johnny grins even as Taeyong makes a pained noise. 

Yeah, Taeyong’s probably right that Taeil wants to fuck him. Johnny just hopes that Taeil realizes it’s mutual, and that they’ll get a chance before he and Taeyong fly back to New York in the morning.

* * *

The final day of filming goes smoothly. Sadly, there’s no more kissing scenes between he and Taeil, but Johnny does get to kiss a pretty girl in what’s been designed to look like a dingy alley. It’s nice in the way that kissing someone always is, but there’s nothing like the explosive chemistry he’d felt with Taeil yesterday that had nearly had him forgetting the half dozen cameras filming his every move. 

(Also, Taeil had watched the scene being filmed, pacing in a way that seemed uncharacteristic of what Johnny knows of him by now, and that had felt—good. Johnny’s not gonna lie. It had felt good.)

Taeil corners him again when the director calls a wrap to the shoot, this time in the wardrobe area before Johnny can change back into his street clothes. “So,” he drawls, “not sure if you and your manager know about this or not, but there’s a wrap party tonight in the restaurant of the hotel everyone’s staying at.”

It’s so not the point of what Taeil’s trying to tell him, but Johnny’s mind gets stuck on the fact that they’ve been staying in the same hotel for days now and he didn’t know. That was probably for the best, he thinks wryly. “I didn’t know wrap parties for music videos were really a thing,” he admits instead. 

“They’re usually not, but a lot of the crew are locals and so the staff from the label decided to do things a little differently this time,” Taeil tells him. “You’re not leaving tonight, are you?”

Johnny thinks he understands why Taeil is making dead certain that he knows about this wrap party. “No, our flight is around lunchtime tomorrow. Taeyong figured I’d be exhausted after a full day of filming so he talked whoever his contacts are into springing for an extra night at the hotel.”

“You’ve got a good manager,” Taeil says, a little wistfully. “But if you’re not leaving, you have no excuse not to be there. Eight o’clock tonight. Everyone’s going to eat and get drunk on the label’s dime. It’ll be a good time.”

“A good time, huh?” Johnny asks, unable to stop himself.

Taeil smirks up at him, nodding. “Definitely not one you want to miss,” he says seriously, reaching out to run his hand down Johnny’s arm, “if you know what I mean.”

Johnny swallows, and he’s pretty sure it’s audible to even Taeil. Yeah, he knows what Taeil means, and there’s nothing in this world—short of death or like, an earthquake or some other equally awful natural disaster—that’s going to keep Johnny from showing up at that party tonight.

Not even Taeyong’s puppy eyes, which he unleashes on Johnny once they get back to the hotel. “I don’t want to go,” he whines. “We’ve been in Seattle for three entire days now and we haven’t seen anything besides the inside of our hotel and that warehouse. I wanted to go to the Space Needle tonight.”

“We saw the airport,” Johnny points out. The force of Taeyong’s glare has him shrinking back and holding his hands up defensively. “Bad joke, sorry.”

“Terrible joke,” Taeyong says haughtily. “But seriously, you don’t even care about this party either. You hate industry parties. You literally only want to go because you want to get into Taeil Moon’s pants.”

Johnny lays down on his back on the bed. “No, I want to go because I’m pretty sure I  _ can  _ get into Taeil Moon’s pants if I do. There’s a difference.”

“I legimately fucking hate you sometimes, you know that?” Taeyong says. 

“I love you too,” Johnny says, saccharine. “And you don’t hate the money that’s about to be in your bank account because of me, either. Besides, I’m sure that you’ll find someone to go to the Space Needle with you, Tae. You’re charming! Charm the pants off of someone! You can do it!”

“I don’t want to charm the pants off of anyone in this timezone,” Taeyong says icily.

“Right,” Johnny breathes out, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Have you thought about why that is, Tae? Has distance made the heart grow fonder, or in this case, made an idiot realize what he’s missing out on?”

“Go fuck yourself, Johnny,” Taeyong says, calm and measured. Johnny hears him stand up from the chair he’d been sitting on, followed by the door to the hotel room slamming close a moment later. He cringes a little, both at the noise and because he knows he’d pushed a little too hard just to get his way, but it’ll be fine. Taeyong’s not one to hold grudges, not really. He’ll likely be over it by the time they have to go downstairs to the restaurant, and if not, he will be after he gets a drink or two in him. And by the time they leave for the airport tomorrow, it’ll be like Johnny never poked at Taeyong’s sore spots enough that he’d felt the need to storm out of the room in a huff.

Satisfied, Johnny uses his elbows to push himself into a sitting position. It’s already after four, and he  _ really  _ needs to take a shower. He’s got a singer to impress tonight.

* * *

The restaurant in the hotel is packed when Johnny trails in after Taeyong at ten after eight. Taeyong had knocked on the door to Johnny’s room at seven on the dot, freshly showered and looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He’d given Johnny a raised eyebrow after he’d taken in Johnny’s appearance (and okay, maybe Johnny had gotten a little carried away and spent nearly an hour ensuring his hair was swept off his forehead  _ just  _ so, but it’s not like Taeyong’s really one to judge) but hadn’t said a word. Johnny had been the one to break the silence once they were in the hallway waiting for the elevator, when he’d asked Taeyong shyly if they were still good.

“We’re fine,” Taeyong had said, looking up at Johnny and smiling a small but honest smile. “Now, stop moping. It’s going to take a lot more than that for you to hurt my feelings for longer than a minute or two.”

Johnny hadn’t pointed out that he’d definitely hurt Taeyong’s feelings for longer than a ‘minute or two,’ figuring that doing so might have set the olive branch Taeyong had extended into flames. Instead, he’d followed Taeyong into the elevator and eventually through the lobby, not wanting to seem too eager to see Taeil again.

Taeil, however, seems to have no such reservations—he leaps to his feet when he makes eye contact with Johnny and waves an arm wildly. “Over here!” he calls from his spot along the bar, ignoring the dirty look a middle aged man shoots him from a small table in the back corner.

Johnny pauses, giving Taeyong a hesitant look. “Go on,” Taeyong says indulgently. “I see the stylists, I’ll go hang out with them. They’re nice. Maybe they’ll tell me what they did to make you look presentable when you were sleep deprived the first morning,” he says thoughtfully.

If anyone could wheedle that information out of a near stranger, it’s Taeyong. Johnny still hesitates a little. “I know you don’t really like dealing with a room full of strangers though,” he says quietly, suddenly feeling guilty.

Taeyong makes a dismissive noise. “Go before he thinks you’re not interested,” he hisses. Johnny whirls back around to look at Taeil, and sure enough, he’s kind of half-sitting on his bar stool, shoulders drooping a little. He visibly perks back up when he sees Johnny pushing his way through the crowd, though.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight,” Johnny says, trying for suave as he slides onto the empty stool next to Taeil. Taeil raises an eyebrow judgmentally, but he’s also got a shy smile blossoming on his face so Johnny’s pretty sure that he nailed it.  _ Exasperated but endeared  _ usually works for him, so why do anything differently now?

“What a shock,” Taeil agrees, deadpan. He’s playing along though, and it’s rather thrilling. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving so I ordered a plate of nachos while I was waiting for you. I’m willing to share though.”

Johnny licks his lips almost unconsciously. “I like nachos,” he agrees as he waves down one of the two bartenders behind the counter. “What are you drinking?”

Taeil nudges his nearly empty glass forward with his index finger. “Amaretto sour,” he answers, and laughs when Johnny makes a face before he can stop himself. “You don’t have to drink what I’m drinking, you know.”

“And thank god for that,” Johnny says with a shudder. Cherry flavored anything makes his stomach turn. “Jack and Coke, please. Ah, make it a double,” he tells the bartender when they finally come to a stop in front of him. 

It’s a simple drink, so it’s less than a minute before the bartender drops it in front of him, the glass so full that some of the liquid sloshes over the top onto the napkin the bartender had thoughtfully slid underneath it. The first sip is strong, and it burns going down Johnny’s throat. “Whoa,” he coughs. “Strong.”

The edges of Taeil’s mouth curl upwards. “Mine, too. Hey, is your manager gonna be alright? I think he landed in the lion's den,” he asks, tipping his head towards his left. When Johnny glances in that direction, he sees that Taeyong is sitting with the stylists just like he’d said he would be, and one of them is currently standing behind him running her hands through his hair with a contemplative look on her face. Taeyong doesn’t look bothered, though—if anything, he looks relaxed.

“He’s fine,” Johnny answers, turning back to Taeil. He shifts forward so that he can lay his hand on one of Taeil’s knees; normally he’d go straight for the upper thigh in a situation like this, but he wants to gauge Taeil’s reaction first.

Taeil doesn’t disappoint. He bites his lip and looks up at Johnny through his eyelashes, then grabs Johnny’s wrist with one of his hands to slide Johnny’s hand higher up his leg. “That’s better,” he says slyly once he’s moved Johnny’s hand halfway up his thigh. He doesn’t, however, let go of Johnny’s wrist. Not even when an entire tray of nachos are plunked down unceremoniously in front of them, not even when the bartenders bring them both a second and an eventual third round of drinks. He doesn’t even let go when Johnny, feeling pleasantly warm and buzzed with the alcohol running through his veins, begins to rub his thumb along the inseam of Taeil’s jeans. If anything, his grip tightens when Johnny’s hand brushes against his fly.

Taeil leans forward so that his mouth is right next to Johnny’s ear. “What are you doing,” he grounds out, voice deeper than the ocean. Johnny tries valiantly not to shiver.

“Nothing,” Johnny says innocently, suddenly moving his hand so that his palm is pressed against Taeil’s crotch. The motion catches Taeil off guard and he nearly topples into Johnny’s lap, finally letting go of his wrist so that he can grab Johnny’s shoulder in an attempt to balance himself. “You’re the one who kept my hand here.”

Taeil goes silent just long enough that Johnny’s stomach drops. Did he push it too far? They’re still in public, after all—a public dinner with members of Taeil’s label, who he’s even admitted to Johnny aren’t entirely supportive of his  _ proclivities _ — 

Before Johnny’s thoughts can spiral downwards even more, Taeil nips the shell of Johnny’s ear. “I think it’s time to take this somewhere private, don’t you?”

Johnny swallows so harshly he’s certain Taeil can hear it. “Your room or mine?” he asks, then shakes his head. “Dumb question, never mind. My room.”

“Your room, yes,” Taeil agrees, sliding off his barstool in one fluid motion. “Let’s go,” he says firmly, taking ahold of Johnny’s wrist again so he can lead him out of the restaurant and back towards the elevator bay.

(And sure, maybe Johnny destroys any pretense of being chill about all of this by giving Taeyong an unsubtle thumbs up on the way out, who just rolls his eyes fondly before turning back to the girl he’d been talking to. But if Taeil sees it, he chooses not to comment. Thankfully.)

* * *

To his credit, Johnny manages to keep his hands off Taeil until they’re in his hotel room. Hotels this fancy surely have cameras in the elevators, after all, and the last thing he wants to do is create a scandal for Taeil. He even holds the door open for him so Taeil can enter the room first to minimize the risk of being seen.

Of course, it means that Johnny has to turn his back to Taeil so he can close and lock the door, and it catches him off guard when Taeil pushes against his shoulder to slam him into the wall. 

“You’re so hot,” Taeil says, crowding into Johnny’s space and pressing a hand flat against Johnny’s chest. “I know you know that, but I just had to tell you.” 

“Thank you?” Johnny says confusedly, trying not to wince at how his voice goes high at the end. Taeil makes a derisive noise, like he can’t believe Johnny even replied to his previous statement, and leans up on his tiptoes to crush his mouth against Johnny’s.

Taeil kisses like he wants to devour Johnny whole. Or like he wouldn’t mind if Johnny devoured  _ him  _ whole, either or. Maybe both. Taeil tastes faintly of cherries and overwhelmingly sweet when he slides his tongue into Johnny’s mouth, but that’s not a surprise considering what he’d been drinking downstairs. When he eventually pulls back, the heat of his gaze leaves Johnny feeling pinned against the wall despite the fact that he’s dead certain he could overpower Taeil easily if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to, though. Johnny wants whatever Taeil’s willing to give him, and he’s pretty sure they both know it.

Taeil gives him a considering look, licking his lips. “You taste like Jack Daniels,” he says, wrinkling his nose a little like he’s disgusted. The breathless sound of Taeil’s voice and the hardness Johnny can feel against his thigh betray him, though.

“Yeah, well, you taste like cherries. And I hate cherry flavored things,” Johnny retorts, unable to keep the snarky remark inside. Taeil laughs before Johnny can begin to overthink it, though. 

“Guess we’re both making exceptions then,” Taeil shrugs, curling the hand still on Johnny’s chest into his shirt and using it to pull him forward. Johnny stumbles a little bit and wraps one of his arms around Taeil’s waist to steady himself. He knows how slight Taeil feels in his arms already, thanks to the hour they’d spent making out for the cameras yesterday, but this is thrilling in its own new way. 

For one thing, there’s no one watching them right now. There’s no one to tell Johnny off if he decides to pick Taeil up to throw him on the bed—and that’s an idea, actually, he thinks.

“What—oh,” Taeil yelps when Johnny lifts him up off the ground, instinctively wrapping his legs around Johnny’s waist. “Oh my god, you’re so strong,” he says almost reverently, framing Johnny’s face with his hands. He uses his grasp on Johnny’s face to tilt his head up so he can kiss him again, and Johnny lets him take what he wants as he stumbles across the hotel room to the bed, narrowly avoiding tripping over his suitcase along the way.

Johnny lowers Taeil to the bed carefully, bringing one of his arms up behind Taeil’s neck to make sure his head doesn’t land at an awkward angle. Taeil gives him a weird look for a split second, but it fades as quickly as it had appeared so Johnny decides not to dwell on it. Instead, he crawls up the bed after Taeil so he can bracket the smaller man with his body and kiss him again.

From there, it’s a bit of a blur. Taeil murmurs absolutely filthy things in Johnny’s ear about how he wishes they had time to truly take each other apart, how he wants Johnny to fuck him so hard he’d feel it for days before he returned the favor, and by the time they manage to rid themselves of their clothes Johnny’s already painfully hard and leaking. Taeil isn’t much better off—he rocks up against Johnny with a desperate whine as their cocks rub against each other, throwing his head back against the pillows and screwing his eyes shut.

“No, look at me,” Johnny demands, wrapping one of his hands around both of their cocks. It’s tricky, the angle making his wrist ache almost instantly, but it’s worth it for how blown wide Taeil’s pupils are when his eyes fly open. His cock is leaking almost more than Johnny’s is, somehow, enough so that it only takes a few strokes of Johnny’s hand around their cocks for it to go from too dry, bordering on painful, to slick and pleasurable.

“Tighter,” Taeil says, sinking his teeth into his own lower lip. It has the added effect of muffling any noises he makes, and Johnny frowns.

“I want to hear you,” he says, twisting his wrist in a way that makes Taeil cry out and rut up against him so violently Johnny nearly loses his grip. “Aw, baby, do you just want to grind against me like we’re a bunch of teenagers? Is that it?”

Taeil’s silent for a moment, but then he shudders and closes his eyes again. “Yes,” he whines, lifting his arms to wrap them around Johnny’s neck and pull him flush against his body once again. “Come on.”

It doesn’t take much longer after that until Taeil comes with a high-pitched shout against Johnny’s mouth, hot and sticky where they’re pressed together. Johnny’s not sure whether getting off like this is a kink for Taeil, or if he’d just been on edge over the past few days like Johnny himself has been, but either way watching Taeil fall apart underneath him is definitely one of the hottest things Johnny’s seen in his entire life. Ever. 

When Taeil sinks boneless into the sheets, his arms slipping off Johnny’s shoulders, Johnny kneels so he can take his cock in hand and finish himself off. He’s already close just from watching Taeil come, but then Taeil looks up at him with heavy lidded eyes, tells Johnny to come on his stomach too, and it’s over. Johnny comes with a gasp, watching Taeil watch  _ him  _ as he shakes through his orgasm. 

“Give me a second, I’ll get a cloth to clean us up,” Johnny manages, catching himself against the bed when his body tries to slump forward. The last thing he wants to do is crush Taeil, even if he suspects the other man would probably enjoy it.

Taeil quirks an eyebrow before sliding a finger through the mess against his stomach and popping the digit into his mouth. “Mmm,” he moans, closing his eyes and licking his lips like he’s chasing the taste still.

Johnny’s cock twitches almost painfully, still oversensitive. There’s no way he can get hard again so soon, but that’s an image that’s going to stick with him for a long,  _ long  _ fucking time.

“You know,” Taeil says a few minutes later, after Johnny’s pulled himself together enough to stumble to the bathroom and bring back a damp washcloth to clean up the mess they’d made of Taeil, “my manager would probably kill me if he knew I had sex with you without making you sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

He doesn’t seem bothered, but Johnny freezes anyway. “Is that something I should have done? Or should do?”

Taeil props himself up on his elbows and gives Johnny an inscrutable look. “My manager carries the forms around with him because he thinks I fuck around a lot more often than I do, and it really is industry standard. People like to brag, you know? So you could. But I’m not worried about it, unless you really want to go find him downstairs right now and tell him all about why you need to sign one.”

Johnny tilts his head, trying to parse through what Taeil just said. “But you just said it’s industry standard,” he says, confused.

“Yeah,” Taeil says, smiling a little. “But I trust you.”

That makes Johnny frown. “You barely even know me,” he points out.

“I know enough about you to think I can trust you,” Taeil answers, eyes holding Johnny’s in an intense state. “Alright?”

“Alright,” Johnny says after a moment, exhaling loudly. “Alright.”

Taeil can’t stay the night, of course. He glances at his watch around midnight and sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping. “I have to go.” 

“I know,” Johnny says. Because he does. Taeil had gotten dressed again almost immediately after Johnny had finished cleaning him up, so Johnny had known him leaving was only a matter of time. If he were to be totally honest, the only thing surprising about Taeil going back to his own room before morning is that he didn’t wait to slip out after Johnny had fallen asleep—it wouldn’t have been much longer, not with the way that Johnny’s limbs and eyelids are feeling heavy right now. “It was great working with you this week.”

Taeil smiles, and something about it feels forced to Johnny. “Yeah, it was,” he agrees, tracing his finger along the seam of the comforter. He’s clearly hesitating, but Johnny isn’t sure why until Taeil squares his shoulders and turns so that he can give Johnny that intense stare of his again. “Give me your number.”

“What?” Johnny asks, suddenly feeling more awake than he had thirty seconds ago. 

“I mean, only if you want to,” Taeil says, sounding bashful. The shy man sitting in front of him is a complete contrast to the confident, almost cocky one Johnny’s interacted with for the last three days, and the contrast makes his head spin a little.

“No, I do want to!” Johnny assures him. “I just...you caught me off guard? I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Ah, I understand,” Taeil says, body relaxing like he’d been holding his breath or something. “I just kinda thought that this way I could give you a heads up when the video’s about to be released.”

There’s no way that Taeyong won’t be told well in advance when the music video is set to be released, but Johnny doesn’t point it out. He doesn’t know Taeil well enough to call him out for making a blatant excuse, either, so he lets it go. “Good idea,” he says instead, and is rewarded by Taeil giving him maybe the most real smile he’s seen since their very first meeting. He rattles off his number once Taeil fishes his phone out of his pocket, and tamps down the urge to ask what Taeil saved his contact under. 

He probably doesn’t want to know.

“Have a safe flight,” Taeil says gently, reaching over to turn off the bedside light. “And sleep well.”

“You, too,” Johnny murmurs, eyes closing of their own accord now that the room’s been plunged into darkness. 

The quiet click of the door closing is the last thing Johnny registers before sleep overtakes him.

* * *

Taeyong is hilariously hungover in the morning when Johnny meets him downstairs to check out. He’s got a bucket hat pulled low over his face, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose that Johnny’s certain he just bought from the hotel gift shop, and an iced coffee bigger than his head in his hands he’s clutching like it’s a lifeline. 

“You alright, Tae?” Johnny teases. The scowl Taeyong gives him in return isn’t nearly as ferocious as it normally would be, and Johnny would bet his entire savings account that it’s because Taeyong’s head is pounding.

“I made a grave error,” Taeyong informs him, standing up and setting his coffee down on the table next to him. “But I saw the Space Needle even without you, so fuck you.”

Johnny laughs, steering Taeyong over towards the short line at the check-out desk. Taeyong’s always a special kind of irritable when he’s hungover, but it’ll pass. Hopefully before they board the flight, because being stuck in a giant tin can with a pissy Taeyong for nearly six hours is about the last thing Johnny wants to deal with today. “Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“It was, and if you ever come back to Seattle you’re going to regret choosing to fuck a pop star over going to see it with me,” Taeyong snipes, thankfully lowering his voice enough that no one around them could hear.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Johnny laughs again, nudging Taeyong forward when it’s their turn to check out. He glances around the lobby and spots the coffee shop Taeyong must have gotten his coffee from, and ducks inside while Taeyong does whatever it is he needs to do to check them out. Luckily, there’s no line inside, and he’s back at Taeyong’s side when he finishes up. 

“Where did you go?” Taeyong asks, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently. “They wanted you to sign something but you were gone.”

Johnny grins sheepishly. “I’m sure you managed it though, Tae, you’re the most capable person I know,” he soothes, holding up the paper bag he’d just acquired in front of Taeyong’s face. “Now eat this chocolate croissant and tell me all about what else you did last night while we wait for the airport shuttle to come back, okay?”

Taeyong glances at the bag warily. “They were out of chocolate croissants when I wanted one half an hour ago,” he says, pouting a little.

“This is fresh out of the oven,” Johnny nods. “So it’s going to be all nice and warm and the chocolate’s going to be melty,” he continues, and can’t help but laugh when Taeyong snatches the bag right out of his hand and tears into it.

“I guess I don’t hate you anymore,” Taeyong tells him thirty seconds later, cheeks bulging since he’d just shoved half of the croissant into his mouth. Johnny mentally cheers. He’d known the chocolate would do the trick, even if it  _ had  _ hurt his soul a little to pay seven dollars for a single pastry. “And to answer your question, I made friends with the stylists—one of them is moving to New York soon, actually, so I got her number, you’d like her—got drunk with them, and then let them talk me into dying my hair in a hotel bathroom. Exciting, I know.” 

Johnny leans forward and yanks Taeyong’s hat off his head before the other man can react, gasping out loud when he sees the shock of light purple hair on top of his head. “Taeyong,” he says.

Taeyong shrinks into himself a little. “Is it bad? I kind of like it, but I was also drunk when I agreed to it.”

“No, no, I love it,” Johnny says quickly, trying to reassure his best friend. Because he genuinely does love it, but—“Yuta is going to fucking die, you know that, right?”

Taeyong ducks his head, trying to hide his blush. “Yuta will be fine. Maybe annoyed that I never dyed my hair any of the times he asked me to do it, but that’s it.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Yongie,” Johnny snorts, the childhood nickname slipping out unwittingly. “You guys  _ match now _ . He’s going to flip.”

The look on Taeyong’s face is so good that Johnny’s legitimately crushed that his phone is in his pocket and there’s no way he can snap a picture right now. “Oh my god,” Taeyong breathes, fingering the strands of his hair gingerly. “We match.”

Belatedly, Johnny realizes he shouldn’t have pointed that out, because now it means that Taeyong’s going to be dwelling on it their entire flight home. Whatever, it’s too late now to take it back. Maybe it’ll finally knock some sense into Taeyong’s thick head. “Shuttle’s here. Time to go home,” he says brightly. 

“Time to go back to reality,” Taeyong corrects him, stretching his arms above his head. 

He’s not wrong, either, Johnny thinks as he follows Taeyong out of the lobby onto the bustling streets. The last few days have felt like a hyper realistic fever dream, especially what went down with Taeil last night. But it’s over now, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

The only thing Johnny knows for sure is that he’ll never forget the last four days. And not just because of the music video that will be released to the world soon, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)


	2. delicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again to [kerrie](https://twitter.com/jaexings) for betaing and for being a constant source of support while i write this!

“What are you doing here?” Johnny asks Yuta, confused. “Taeyong asked me to stop by for a _very important meeting. _So why did you open the door?”

“He’s on the phone in his office with the door closed,” Yuta answers, looking a little wild around the eyes.

That doesn’t answer Johnny’s question, though. Because not only does Taeyong like to act like his office is much fancier than just being his spare bedroom, he also kicks anyone who isn’t Johnny out whenever he has modelling business stuff to talk to him about. Even his own mother on one hilarious occasion—Johnny had been convinced that she was going to strangle Taeyong when he finally let her back inside his apartment, and Taeyong would have deserved it. He’d even mentally begun preparing the speech he’d have to give at Taeyong’s funeral as the broken-hearted best friend at one point, but Mrs. Lee had eventually decided to let Taeyong live for for some reason.

(Probably because he’s her only son, but whatever. The point is, she probably would have been justified in killing Taeyong for that stunt.)

“I probably could have guessed that, but shouldn’t you be sitting outside waiting for Taeyong to be done with whatever it is he has to talk to me about?” Johnny asks.

“Why did you let him dye his hair?” Yuta hisses, grabbing the sleeve of Johnny’s shirt to pull him in closer. “Are my feelings a joke to you? I’m going to die,” he cries, sounding a little bit like a dying whale.

Johnny tugs his arm free and sits down on the couch. “First of all, sexual frustration won’t kill you,” he says, ignoring Yuta’s muttered _you don’t know, it might._ “Second of all, I didn’t let him do anything. I left him alone for one night and he turned up the next day with his hair like that.”

Yuta arches an eyebrow judgmentally. “What were you doing that was so important you had to ditch Taeyong? You know he doesn’t like strangers.”

“He made friends with the people I left him with. Ask him, he'll tell you,” Johnny says, even though he knows that’s not really what Yuta is asking him. But he’s not sure if he_can _tell Yuta what went down—he’d promised Taeil to keep the secret, well, secret. Not that he thinks Yuta would ever run to Twitter or TMZ or anything like that with the info; if anything, Yuta would probably be out for blood if someone did betray Johnny like that. It’s an awkward situation all around though, and it’s not one Johnny’s not happy to find himself in. He’d thought he’d have more time to figure out how he wanted to deal with the Taeil thing where all of his non-Taeyong friends were concerned.

Thankfully, he’s saved for the time being by Taeyong opening the door to his spare bedroom. “Johnny, is that you I hear?” he calls out.

“Yes,” Johnny answers, jumping to his feet. “Are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you right now,” Taeyong replies, and Yuta makes a gagging noise. “Come on in.”

The first thing Johnny notices when he enters is that the armchair that had always been sitting next to Taeyong’s desk is gone, replaced with a small loveseat he could have only gotten from Ikea. The second thing he notices is that Yuta follows him in and perches on the very edge of the loveseat before Johnny has a chance to sit down.

“Did you bring that home on the subway?” Johnny asks dumbly.

“Of course not. I paid to have it delivered and assembled for me,” Taeyong replies airily, and yeah, Johnny really should have known that. He’s pretty sure Taeyong doesn’t even own a screwdriver. “But guess what? Yuta finally agreed to let me try to book him for some gigs!”

“Oh,” Johnny breathes out. Yuta’s presence suddenly makes sense, as does the larger seating space in the room. “I thought you said that you’d only try modelling if hell froze over, Yuta?”

“I asked him again earlier when he stopped by to find out how our trip was and he agreed,” Taeyong chatters happily, turning in his desk chair to face his computer screen. It means that he misses Yuta making a slashing motion along his throat in Johnny’s direction.

Johnny suppresses a giggle and leans against the back of the loveseat, resting his head against the wall. It’s so obvious to him now what had happened—Yuta had been too stunned by Taeyong’s new dye job to offer up his usual token protests when Taeyong asked him about it.

“I figured that if he could get your ugly ass a job worth two hundred and fifty thousand bucks, he could probably work his magic for me too,” Yuta says weakly when Taeyong gives him an expectant look. “But seriously, why did you ditch Taeyong one night, Johnny? Friends don’t leave friends all alone in strange cities,” he says, sharp, leaning forward and pinning Johnny down with his gaze.

Taeyong drums his fingers against his desk. “To be fair, he left me in the hotel and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have even done that if I had told him not to. But I wasn’t going to rob him of the chance to hook up with his celebrity crush when it was right in front of him on a silver platter. And I was fine! I made some new friends,” Taeyong continues blithely, either ignoring or not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes widen.

“You did _what _,” Yuta screeches, unapologetic even when Johnny winces and rubs his ear. 

“I made some new friends?” Taeyong says confusedly.

“Not you, Tae, although that’s awesome,” Yuta assures him. “Johnny fucked his celebrity crush? But isn’t his celebrity crush that one short singer dude? How the fuck did that happen?”

Johnny scowls. “He’s like an inch shorter than you, Yuta.”

“Two inches shorter,” Taeyong interjects defensively. “And that’s whose music video he was hired to appear in.”

Yuta’s draw drops. “You’re kidding me.”

“He follows Johnny on instagram, apparently,” Taeyong continues, sounding a little gleeful. 

“Tell me everything,” Yuta demands, putting his hands on his knees and leaning all the way in to Johnny’s personal space. “And I mean _everything_.”

Taeyong makes a weird noise. “Wait, he probably can’t, Yuta. He probably had to sign an NDA. You know how celebrities are.”

“I don’t, actually,” Yuta says incredulously. “Johnny’s the closest thing to a celebrity I know with his hundred thousand Instagram followers.”

Johnny clears his throat awkwardly. “I didn’t sign an NDA. I was willing to, but Taeil told me not to worry about it. Said he trusted me not to tell the whole world about it.”

Yuta leans back and tilts his head in a way that reminds Johnny of an overly affectionate puppy. “Seriously?” he says doubtfully.

“Seriously,” Johnny echoes. “Trust me, I was as surprised as you.”

“Was that it?” Taeyong chimes in. 

Johnny folds his hands together across his lap and stares down at them. “He asked for my number, too. Which I gave him. Obviously. Why wouldn’t I?”

Taeyong gives Johnny a look he can’t read, which is rare. As well as he knows Taeyong, he can usually read the other man like a picture book. “Hmm,” he muses. 

“You gave a celebrity your number?” Yuta says, higher pitched than Johnny’s ever heard him before—which is saying something, considering they’d went to a haunted house together last Halloween. “Johnny. _Dude._ You're my hero.”

“It’s nothing,” Johnny grumbles. “Nothing’s going to come of it. He’s probably deleted my number by now anyways, it’s been a few days since we left Seattle.”

Taeyong taps his fingers against his desk again. “Which reminds me why I asked you to stop by,” he says, suddenly all business again. “Your check for the video shoot cleared yesterday and the funds were sent to my work account today. I just need you to sign off on my cut, and then I’ll transfer the rest to your checking account right away.”

Johnny gives Taeyong a skeptical look. “You’ve literally never had me do that before, Tae, why now? I trust you, it’s fine.” 

Taeyong sighs. “It’s also never been this much money before either, Johnny. Please? For me?”

Johnny rolls his eyes, but he holds out his hand so Taeyong can pass the sheet of paper in front of him over. “Jesus,” he says under his breath, looking at the numbers on the page.

“See?” Taeyong demands.

“I see,” Johnny acquiesces, taking the pen Taeyong tosses at him to scribble his signature at the bottom of the page. “And that’s going to be in my bank account tomorrow?”

“Should be. Thursday at the latest.”

Johnny exhales. “Holy shit.”

“First a famous person asks for your number after you hook up with them, now your bank account is about to be fat as fuck,” Yuta says, whistling lowly. “You’re having a pretty good few weeks, aren’t you?”

“I guess,” Johnny shrugs, “but it’s really not a big deal that Taeil asked for my number. It’s not like he’s going to call me.”

Yuta exchanges a brief look with Taeyong, and it lasts long enough that Johnny’s dead certain they’re having one of those silent conversations they have sometimes. 

(Seriously, Taeyong needs to just pull his head out of his ass and realize they’re in love with each other already, before Johnny loses his mind.)

“You’re probably right,” Yuta says, dismissive in a way that feels intentional. “You’re still having a pretty good few weeks even if we ignore that part, though.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I really kind of am.”

* * *

A month passes in a blink of an eye.

It doesn’t take long for Johnny to settle back into his old routine. Or, well, a new routine—not only is he busier than he had been before, even without the video having been released yet, he’d moved into a bigger, nicer apartment two weeks after his check from the music video shoot had hit his bank account. He hadn’t been picky, and the apartment locator Taeyong had sent him to had known what she was doing, so it hadn’t taken long at all to find an apartment he’d been happy with that was move-in ready. A new home base means new subway routes to get used to, but he’s been in New York long enough now that he adapts fairly quickly.

Officially, Johnny hasn’t heard a word from Taeil Moon ever since the other man had slipped out of his hotel room a month ago. A representative from Taeil’s label had given them a heads up a few days that the music video would be released at the end of this week, prior to Taeil starting his promotional tour for the single, but Taeil hadn’t texted him about it and Johnny couldn’t say he was surprised. It was exactly what he had predicted would happen, after all.

Unofficially, he’d posted a selfie laying in bed the night he’d moved into his new apartment and gotten a comment of two winking emojis and ‘_ looks familiar’ _from a suspiciously blank Instagram profile—not even a private account, but a completely blank one minus the twenty or so accounts it followed. Johnny had considered bringing it up to Taeyong, asking him what he thought about it, but eventually decided against it. There are a lot of random weirdos on social media these days, and it’s not the first time Johnny’s posted a selfie of himself in bed to his Instagram account. The commenter could have just been referring to one of those other selfies, but—Johnny’s gut continues to insist this one was Taeil, and he’s not sure how he feels about it. On one hand, it’s nice, he supposes, that Taeil still thinks about him. But on the other hand, Taeil has his number. He knows how to contact Johnny in a way that he won’t have to wonder about who’s on the other end.

Johnny’s phone rings as he’s trying to juggle his apartment keys and two bags full of groceries the night before the video is scheduled to drop. Not only are his hands full, but he’d gotten caught in an unexpected downpour in the short distance between his subway stop and his building; needless to say, he’s not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, not until he’s warm and dry again, so he ignores it. He doesn’t call the person back, either, because when he checks his phone he sees that the call had come from an area code he doesn’t recognize and they hadn’t bothered to leave a voicemail. It can’t have been that important, Johnny rationalizes to himself, and leaves it at that.

The number calls again just before eleven o’clock Friday night, when Johnny’s getting ready for bed. It had been a long day—the video being released first thing that morning had meant an influx of social media notifications and phone calls to both he and Taeyong, and he’s got an early magazine shoot tomorrow. He’s about used up all of his patience, which is probably why instead of doing the smart thing and ignoring the phone call, Johnny answers with a short, bitten off, “What?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” a voice Johnny would recognize anywhere says, “I completely forgot about the time difference. It’s super late there, right?”

“It’s eleven, so kind of?” Johnny says, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “It’s fine, though. Hello, Taeil.”

“Hey, Johnny” Taeil says. “Listen, I can call you back tomorrow. I don’t mind.”

Johnny sighs a little. “I’m going to be busy the entire day tomorrow. Seriously, it’s fine. What’s up? I’m a little surprised you actually kept my number,” he adds with a self-deprecating little laugh.

The line gets staticky, like Taeil exhaled directly into the microphone. “Actually, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to text you or something,” he admits. “I really was going to tell you when the video was about to be released, but I chickened out. Were you okay with how it turned out?”

“Yeah,” Johnny says after a moment, remembering how Yuta had sent him a text saying _I feel like I just watched something I shouldn’t have seen _ten minutes after it went live. He’s pretty sure one of the clips of he and Taeil looking at each other had actually been taken after the director had called cut, and it had felt a little weird to see it on his phone screen; it had felt like a private moment had been broadcasted for the entire world to see, and Johnny's still not sure how he feels about it. “It was fine.”

“They did send it to you guys for final approval, right?” Taeil asks.

“Uhh. No, actually. Were they supposed to send it to us?”

Taeil makes an irritated sounding noise. “Um, yeah. I literally told them to? They seriously didn’t?”

“They didn’t, but it’s fine. It’s your video. It wasn’t bad, I probably wouldn’t have them take anything out,” Johnny placates, and it’s even true. He probably wouldn’t have told Taeyong to tell Taeil’s people to remove anything, because he would have been afraid of getting the reputation of being hard to work with or something. But it’s all over and done with now, so Johnny doesn’t see the point in dwelling on it.

(Besides, he suspects that even if he had been sent the video in advance, any suggestions he might have made would have been ignored.)

“I’m sorry,” Taeil sighs.

“It’s fine,” Johnny repeats, trying to tamp down the edge of irritation he’s feeling right now. He and Taeil are still almost strangers—he has no way of knowing that if Johnny says something is fine, it’s fine, and continuing to press the issue will generally end badly. “Is that why you called? To ask if I’d seen the video yet?”

“Not entirely,” Taeil admits, going quiet again. 

Johnny doesn’t say a word, waiting for him to continue. Taeil called _him _, and so it’s not up to Johnny to squeeze the reason why out of him. That’s on Taeil.

“I’m going to be in New York for promo for like a week and a half,” Taeil says finally. “I’m flying in tomorrow night, but I’m free until Monday afternoon. Would you like to meet up somewhere Sunday evening?”

Johnny drops his phone.

“—won’t be offended,” Taeil’s saying when Johnny manages to pick both his phone and his jaw off the ground. “I just thought...well, I don’t know what I thought,” he laughs awkwardly.

“No, no, I want to!” Johnny practically shouts, wincing at his volume. “I want to,” he repeats, much quieter, “but I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that at all and so I dropped my phone when you asked.”

“Is that why it went weirdly quiet? I thought you hung up on me for a second, but then I heard like, rustling or something.”

“That would have been me picking up my phone,” Johnny confirms, a little embarrassed. “Do you have anywhere in mind we should meet up? Where are you staying?”

Taeil hums. “Probably in or close to Times Square, that’s usually where I stay when I come to New York for promo,” he replies, and it’s such an obvious answer that Johnny should have known without even having to ask. “I’m not hugely familiar with New York, if I’m being honest, so I was hoping you’d know somewhere we could go that’s kind of quiet?”

_Somewhere I won’t be seen _, Johnny translates. Luckily for Taeil, this is New York, and besides, Johnny knows a lot of places off the beaten path where no one will give a shit about spotting a celebrity, and he’s already got a couple in mind. “I know a few places, yeah,” Johnny tells him. “Do you want me to meet you at your hotel, or just text you directions Sunday morning?”

“Text me directions,” Taeil says immediately. “It’s a lot easier for me to slip out if it’s just me.”

"Will do," Johnny replies, not sure where to go from here. If Taeil wants to keep talking, Johnny will willingly stay on the line with him, but...his alarm is set for 5:30 tomorrow morning, and staying up even this late was kind of pushing it.

Thankfully, Taeil laughs and says, "I'll remind you if I have to, don't worry. And I am going to hang up now, because it is kind of late for you and I have no idea what your schedule looks like tomorrow besides it being full. Alright?"

"Alright," Johnny agrees. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight! See you Sunday!" Taeil chirps, the line going dead seconds later. 

It's a long time before Johnny's able to fall asleep after that.

* * *

“Hey, Johnny,” Wendy greets him immediately on Sunday night, before he’s barely three feet inside the doorway of his favorite bar. “I heard from Jaehyun that you’ve abandoned us for Manhattan. Is he just talking shit again, or is he for real?”

Johnny laughs, sitting down onto the barstool that gives him the best view of the door. He’s still not entirely convinced Taeil is going to show up, but if he _does _, Johnny doesn’t want to miss him. ‘“For once, he isn’t just talking shit,” he admits. Jaehyun’s a good friend and an even better personal trainer, but the man never has learned when to keep his mouth shut. “But I’m not far. I actually live closer to Taeyong now than I did before.”

Wendy huffs. “I guess I can forgive that,” she says airily, so over the top that Johnny’s reminded that she originally moved to New York to become a Broadway star before deciding to settle down with her girlfriend and adopt a bunch of cats instead, claiming that fame wouldn’t suit her after all. He’s not entirely sure about that—fame would probably suit Wendy really well, actually—but she’s as happy as a person can be, so Johnny knows that she made the right decision for herself.

If Johnny’s learned anything in his years of living in New York, it’s that life has a funny way of forcing you to re-sort your priorities on a dime. It seems like no one he knows in the city has the same goals now that they did when they first arrived. Himself included, of course—his parents had threatened to disown him when he’d told them he was dropping out of college and abandoning his nearly-completed biology degree in order to model full time, but by now even they admit that it was probably the best choice he could have made for himself. And it’s not like there’s nothing preventing him from going back to school one day if he so chooses, either.

“Besides, I’m still here, aren’t I?” he asks, propping his hand on his chin to give her his best pleading look. When Taeil had asked him if he knew anywhere they could meet up tonight, this had been the only place he’d considered telling him to go (well, besides Johnny’s apartment itself, but that might have sent the message that Johnny would only be interested in meeting up again if sex was on the table. Which, yes, Johnny would absolutely be interested in hooking up with Taeil again, given the opportunity, but he would have agreed to meet Taeil tonight even if Taeil had explicitly said from the start that sex wouldn’t be happening).

“That is true,” Wendy acknowledges, pointing the bottle of tequila she’s holding at him briefly. “You being here on a Sunday night is weird, though.”

“I’m meeting a friend here,” Johnny tells her. He’s even pretty sure he’s telling her something close to the truth.

Wendy waggles her eyebrows. “A _friend _, huh,” she says, voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t know you had those.”

Johnny winces. “Low blow,” he tells her. “You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” Wendy sighs, rolling her eyes. “Learn to take a joke please, Johnny. I’m just saying that most people don’t meet their friends one on one in a bar on a Sunday night. Do you want anything, by the way?”

“Just a beer for now,” Johnny answers, distracted by the door swinging open. The person who walks in the door has a Dodgers hat pulled low over their face and is wearing a blue sweater that entirely swamps their small frame in deference to the late September chill in the air, but it’s unmistakably Taeil. “Actually, can you hold that? My friend’s here,” he tells Wendy, who gives him a thumbs up and ambles down towards the other end of the bar to check on the patrons sitting there.

“He’s down there, if you’re looking for the sasquatch,” he hears Wendy call out when Taeil visibly hesitates in the doorway, and Taeil’s head snaps up to look around the room like he’s trying to figure out if she’s talking to him or not. He’s biting his lip, which is adorable, and he’s also wearing a pair of round glasses that just make him look _cuddly_when combined with the sweater. It’s so different than the irresistibly sexy Taeil Johnny met in Seattle that it kind of makes his head spin (as does the way Taeil’s face visibly brightens when he makes eye contact with Johnny).

But it makes sense, Johnny muses as Taeil crosses the short distance between them. Taeil had the upper hand between the two of them so to speak the time they spent together previously, but right now? Right now they’re on Johnny’s turf, and he’s pretty sure they both know it. 

“Hello,” Taeil says, sliding onto the booth next to Johnny. “You look good.”

Johnny ducks his head, feeling slightly embarrassed of all things. “It’s kind of my job,” he says lamely. “To look good, I mean. So.”

“Aww,” Taeil coos, and Johnny can’t tell if it’s meant to be mocking or not. “Good thing it’s not hard for you to look good then, huh?”

Probably not mocking, then. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” Johnny admits, laughing a little. Taeil smiles smugly at him, and Johnny gets the impression that he was_trying _to throw him off balance. Well, mission successful, Johnny thinks.

“Accept the compliment and tell me what you’ve been up to since I’ve last seen you,” Taeil answers. He’s kind of bossy, but Johnny likes it. Johnny likes it a lot if he’s being totally honest with himself.

Johnny’s halfway through telling Taeil about the disaster of a photoshoot he’d been on last week when Wendy comes back over to them, this time tossing a shaker from hand to hand since she needs something to keep her hands busy while she makes small talk with her patrons. “Johnny, Johnny’s friend,” she says warmly. “What can I get you? Johnny, you still just want a beer?”

“Ah, a beer sounds good,” Taeil says before Johnny can answer her, shifting in his seat to turn his full attention on Wendy. Johnny sees her eyes widen in recognition the moment she realizes just who Taeil is, but she recovers quickly and carries on like she doesn’t have a pop star sitting at her bar. Which is exactly why Johnny knew that this would be a safe place for him to bring Taeil tonight—even if Wendy hadn’t been the one behind the bar tonight, absolutely no one else around here would have given a single fuck either.

“Johnny? Your usual for both of you, then?” Wendy asks, not bothering to put the shaker down to scribble down their order on her notepad. She doesn’t need to. Not when Johnny’s been coming to this bar for the better part of two years now. 

“Sounds great,” Johnny tells her. She gives him a salute before walking away to get their drinks, and Taeil grabs Johnny’s knee the second she’s out of whispering distance. Unfortunately, it’s not a sexy kind of grab—Taeil’s digging his fingers in sharply enough that it seriously kind of hurts.

“She knows who I am,” Taeil whispers urgently.

“She does,” Johnny agrees. It _had _been pretty obvious that Wendy had recognized him, so lying about it would just make him look like an asshole.

“But she didn’t say anything,” Taeil continues, looking genuinely bewildered. Johnny’s heart aches for him, just a little bit.

“Nah, and she won’t,” Johnny assures him. “She and I are friends, but that’s not even why. No one around here cares that you’re famous. It’s New York. I’m pretty sure the Queen of England could walk through the door right now and no one would react.” 

Taeil relaxes his grip on Johnny’s leg, but he doesn’t move his hand. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “I guess LA’s gotten me paranoid after all this time.”

Thankfully, Johnny’s saved by having to respond to _that _by Wendy bringing their drinks over, placing them down carefully on coasters in front of them. “On the house,” she says, giving Johnny a wink. “I gotta work to keep you around now, you know?” she teases, and Johnny groans.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Johnny repeats, sticking his tongue out at her.

Taeil’s hand on his thigh tightens again. “Is she…” he trails off, clearing his throat.

Johnny gets it anyway. “God, no,” he says vehemently. “Her girlfriend would murder me. Literally. She’s a good friend of mine, though. Why? You jealous?” he teases.

Taeil’s eyes go dark, catching Johnny by surprise. “Yeah,” he says frankly. “Thought for a moment you’d brought me here to let me down easy without having to actually tell me you had a girlfriend or something.”

Unfortunately for Johnny, he’d just raised his glass to his mouth to take a sip, and Taeil’s words leave him choking on his beer. “No, no,” he sputters. “I’m definitely single. I wouldn’t have hooked up with you if I wasn’t,” he adds, dropping his voice to a whisper for Taeil's sake. 

“I figured that was true because you don’t seem like the cheating type, but a lot can also change in a month,” Taeil shrugs, his mouth curving into a pleased smile. “Now tell me more about that shitty photoshoot.”

Johnny does, of course. Taeil ends up chiming in with a story about a horrific photoshoot of his own around the time Wendy brings them each a second beer, and by the time they’ve each finished a third one Taeil’s obviously ignoring everything Johnny’s saying in favor of blatantly watching his mouth move. While Johnny normally hates being ignored, he can’t bring himself to be mad about it this time—it’s flattering as hell to know that Taeil still wants him just as bad as he himself still wants Taeil.

Shaking his head at Wendy when she comes over again to check up on them, Johnny leans forward into Taeil’s space. “You haven’t heard a word I said in the last five minutes, have you?” he asks, trying not to laugh.

Taeil smirks a little. “That obvious?” he asks, licking his lips. His gaze is still fixed on Johnny’s mouth, and Johnny gets the distinct impression that if they weren’t sitting in the middle of a semi-crowded bar right now Taeil would be kissing him.

“Uh, yeah,” Johnny says, shaking his head. “Do you want to get out of here? If we leave now, it’ll only take us about half an hour to get to my place on the train.”

“Or,” Taeil says, looking up at Johnny through his eyelashes, “I can call us an Uber and we can get there faster than that, I bet.”

“Or, yeah, you can do that,” Johnny nods quickly. “That definitely sounds like thing you can do.”

Taeil laughs, and it’s music to Johnny’s ears. “Eager, are we?”

“Takes one to know one,” Johnny retorts, standing up in order to catch Wendy’s attention. When they made eye contact, something on his face must tip her off to what’s going on, because she rolls her eyes and makes a shooing gesture in the direction of the door. Johnny grins back at her and catches Taeil’s wrist. “We’re good. Let’s go.”

“What about our tab?” Taeil asks worriedly. “We can’t let her cover it all, even if she’s your friend.”

“I’ll pay her back, don’t worry,” Johnny assures him. Most likely by footing the bill for her and Seulgi the next time they all go out for dinner as a group, which seems like a more than fair trade to him. 

Taeil gives him a doubtful look, but he allows Johnny to haul him to his feet which likely means he’s decided not to argue the point any further. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

* * *

Johnny wakes up the next morning with the sun shining brightly in his bedroom—he’d forgotten to close the blinds last night, which isn’t a surprise considering that he’d been otherwise occupied—and a heavy weight on his chest. He has to blink a few times to focus his vision enough so he can actually see, but when he does, he’s greeted by Taeil, dead asleep, with his head pillowed on Johnny’s bare chest. 

The sight is enough to make Johnny’s heart do a funny thing in his chest. He’d told Taeil he could stay the night last night, of course, and while Taeil had accepted Johnny had fallen asleep mentally preparing himself to wake up alone. He hadn’t actually expected Taeil to still be here in the morning, and definitely hadn’t expected Taeil to be _sleeping_ _on him_. 

Johnny manages to slowly extricate himself from underneath Taeil without waking the other man up. It proves to be a harder task than he had anticipated—Taeil had suddenly clung onto one of Johnny’s arms like a koala when he first started moving, but Johnny had placed a pillow to hold onto instead in the spot where he’d been moments before and that had done the trick.

He stumbles out to the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on and checks the time as he does so. It’s only seven thirty, and Taeil had mentioned something about not having to be anywhere until late this afternoon, so Johnny figures he’s got time to take a shower before he starts making breakfast and wakes the other man up. His body thinks it’s a lot earlier than this, letting him sleep as much as he can is the nice thing for Johnny to do, right? Especially considering how they’d worn each other out last night. They’d only managed a half-assed clean up after they’d traded blowjobs in the living room, and Johnny feels the kind of gross that only comes with falling asleep while still slicked with sweat and other bodily fluids.

So, yeah, a shower sounds like a great idea. And it is, up until the moment the shower curtain is shoved aside almost violently and Johnny drops a bottle of shower gel on his foot. The only thing that keeps him from hitting the ground in a graceless heap of limbs is Taeil’s arm shooting out to steady him in the nick of time.

“You just scared the hell out of me,” Johnny tells him, taking a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart.

Taeil rolls his eyes, and it seems fond. “That’s what you get for showering without me,” he says, stepping in and yanking the curtain closed behind him. He crowds Johnny against the wall, bracing his hands on either side of Johnny’s waist. “You’re up early.”

“I’m an early riser,” Johnny says, a little sheepishly. “I was going to let you sleep until after I finished making us breakfast. I figured you’re probably a little jet-lagged since you just flew in yesterday, you know?”

“Aww,” Taeil coos, his face going a little soft. “That’s sweet. You’re sweet,” he adds, voice dropping low enough Johnny kind of wonders if he was meant to hear it. “I’m not hungry for food right now, though.”

Johnny laughs. “What, are you hungry for my dick or something?” he asks, teasing.

“Yeah,” Taeil answers, completely seriously. Johnny’s breath catches in his throat as Taeil moves one of his hands off the wall to palm at Johnny’s cock. “I woke up hard as fuck in your bed that smells like you. Of course I want you again.”

His words hit Johnny like a punch in the gut, and he’s pretty sure his brain shuts down for a few seconds. “Shower,” he says once he comes back online, and an outraged look forms on Taeil’s face.

“What?” he sputters. “I offer to let you fuck me, and you tell me to _shower _?”

“This shower is way too small to fuck in,” Johnny points out, grinning. “I don’t want either one of us to end up in the ER. I’ve never had a sex injury and I’d really like to keep it that way, you know?”

Taeil ducks his head like he’s embarrassed. “Good point, I guess,” he grumbles a little. “Your bathroom is small as fuck, dude.”

“You should have seen my old one. This one is spacious compared to it,” Johnny retorts, handing Taeil his bottle of shampoo. “Shower.”

Taeil hesitates a brief moment before taking the bottle from Johnny. “Alright..”

Johnny was nearly done before Taeil’s interruption anyway, so he mostly just watches Taeil rush through a normal shower routine with the speed of a man possessed. It probably helps that his hair is pretty short so it doesn’t take him long to wash it, but it definitely doesn’t take Taeil more than five minutes to finish. 

“Done!” he announces proudly, throwing the shower curtain open once more, and Johnny shakes his head as he turns off the water. He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud; something tells him that Taeil might take it personally. 

“Towels are under the sink,” Johnny tells him, straightening up and stepping out of the tub. A towel hits him in the chest a second later. “Someone’s eager,” Johnny teases, and Taeil rolls his eyes at him again. 

“As if you’re not,” he points out, and Johnny has to give him that one. He rubs himself dry with the towel perfunctorily, and by the time he finishes Taeil is huffing impatiently at him. Johnny gets it, though—he’d be acting the exact same way if he were in Taeil’s shoes.

Taeil all but drags Johnny through the apartment back to his bedroom, using his momentum to shove Johnny down on the bed. Johnny doesn’t even have a chance to try and scoot upwards a little bit so that his head is on his pillows before Taeil clambers on top of him, straddling his waist and capturing Johnny’s mouth in a desperate kiss. Johnny just lets him take what he wants, powerless in the face of Taeil’s enthusiasm.

Johnny eventually flips them over and pulls away to give Taeil a considering look. The whine Taeil lets out when he does so is music to his ears. “What do you want?” he asks, breathless.

Taeil sucks in a deep breath. “I want you to fuck me so hard you’ll be all I can think about during my interviews later today,” he says bluntly. 

“Okay,” Johnny says, swallowing so heavily he’s sure Taeil can hear it. “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure, but this gentleman thing you’ve got going on is super hot,” Taeil says, laughing a little. “Fuck, if I wasn’t already turned on I would be by now.”

“You talk a lot during sex, huh?” Johnny asks, moving so that he’s kneeling, his knees on either side of Taeil’s thighs. He’d noticed it a little during both of their previous encounters, too, and he’s not gonna lie, it’s pretty hot. 

Taeil smiles innocently up at him. “Usually. Now, are you going to fuck me, or are you just gonna sit there and stare at me?” he demands. 

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you baby,” Johnny promises, shifting so he can open the drawer of his nightstand, and he doesn’t miss how Taeil shudders and closes his eyes at the pet name. “Turn over for me, yeah?”

Taeil scrambles to comply, all vestiges of his previous bossiness gone. He even draws his knees up underneath him without Johnny having to tell him to do so, putting his ass on display, and Johnny tosses the lube and condom he’d just pulled out of the drawer onto the bedspread so he can grab Taeil’s ass instead. Next time, Johnny promises himself—if there is a next time, anyways—he’ll eat Taeil out until he cries, but he has a feeling that Taeil would try to kick him in the head right now if he dragged this out any longer than he absolutely has to.

Taeil opens up so easily around Johnny’s fingers that Johnny suspects he might have fingered himself open last night before they ever met up at the bar, and the thought makes something warm and content settle in the pit of his stomach along with the desire that’s already there. As does the way that Taeil pushes back against him, grasping Johnny’s bedspread with both hands before Johnny’s even got three fingers inside.

“I’m ready,” Taeil insists when Johnny works a third finger in. “Fuck me already.”

Johnny chuckles. “Trust me, you need one more,” he promises, pausing to drop a kiss to the hollow of Taeil’s spine. Taeil makes a whiny noise that is frankly more adorable than it should be, considering the situation they’re in right now, but Johnny’s endeared anyway.

Taeil rolls over onto his back when Johnny removes his fingers from his hole in order to put the condom on. “I wanna see you,” he says, and Johnny’s certainly not going to argue with him. Not when it means he sees the way Taeil’s eyes flutter shut at the first press of Johnny’s cock against his hole, only to fly open with a gasp when Johnny bottoms out. Johnny gives him a moment to get used to the stretch and bites back a smile when Taeil’s look of surprise shifts to one of impatience.

“Don’t you dare go slow,” Taeil demands, hooking his ankles together at the small of Johnny’s back as if he’s trying to urge Johnny to move.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Johnny replies, smirking.

Taeil’s loud when he’s getting fucked, which Johnny could have predicted, but he’s also handsy in a way that seems almost frantic. He goes from threading his hands through Johnny’s hair to dragging his nails down his back to clutching onto his biceps for dear life, and Johnny leans down to nip at his earlobe when his nails bite into the skin of Johnny’s arm hard enough to break the skin.

“Maybe next time I’ll tie you to the headboard,” he murmurs, and is rewarded with Taeil’s loudest moan yet.

“Please,” Taeil begs. “God, please please please—” and Johnny thinks he’s not just agreeing to be tied up in the future anymore. 

Johnny moves so that he can capture Taeil’s mouth in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything, then shifts so that he can take Taeil’s cock in his hand. He’s so wet with pre-cum that the slide is easy from the start, and Johnny relishes in the pleas that spill out of Taeil’s mouth with he flicks his thumb across the head of Taeil’s cock, Taeil’s breath hot against his skin.

“I’m close,” Taeil sobs. “Baby, please—”

“Come for me, then,” Johnny orders, tightening his grip on Taeil’s cock. It only takes a few more strokes paired with a particularly brutal thrust for Taeil to come with a high pitched scream, his back arching up off the bed so sharply that Johnny worries about him hurting himself before he collapses like a puppet who just had its strings cut. 

Taeil clenches tight around Johnny’s cock and looks up at him through his eyelashes, his eyes dark and his lips bitten red and swollen. “Come in me, I know you want to. _I _want you to,” he says, and even though Johnny knows—they both know—he’s wearing a condom—the mental image of filling Taeil up with his cum is enough for Johnny to follow Taeil over the edge. His arms give out and he collapses on top of Taeil, probably crushing him, but Taeil doesn’t seem to mind based on how he hums contentedly and pets Johnny’s hair while Johnny tries to gather his bearings.

“Hey, Johnny?” Taeil murmurs, his voice almost muffled by Johnny’s shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I think we need to take another shower,” he says, sounding a little sly, and Johnny can’t help but laugh.

* * *

“Hey, so what are you doing tonight?” Taeil asks, rubbing his hands against his own thighs as they wait for the Uber he’d called to bring him back to his hotel.

“Nothing,” Johnny says, sighing contentedly. He’d somehow ended up with almost the entire week off—Taeyong had offered to try to find him _something _, and two months ago Johnny would have taken him up on it, but he’s got enough money in his savings account right now that he can take a week off here and there without worrying about how he’s going to pay his rent next month. “Nothing at all.”

“So you’ll be here all night?” Taeil asks, looking down at his shoelaces.

“Yeah. Why?”

Taeil keeps his gaze firmly on the ground as he says, “I was wondering if you’d mind if I came over again tonight when I’m done with all my interviews today.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Johnny says quickly, not giving himself time to overthink it. “Will your manager be okay with it?”

Taeil snorts. “My manager doesn’t care what I do during promo periods since there’s not a ton of staff from the label around to worry about it. As long as I show up on time to my schedules and don’t make a fool out of myself where the paparazzi might see he’s fine. I’ll probably be done around seven today?” he says, phrasing it like a question. 

“I’ll have dinner ready, then,” Johnny tells him, deciding not to comment on the abrupt subject change (subject dismissal, really). Taeil’s phone chimes a moment later, alerting them both that his Uber’s here. “Break a leg or whatever.”

“I’m not an actor,” Taeil huffs, but he’s grinning as he leaves.

Johnny refuses to get his hopes up, even as he cooks dinner for two. He makes something simple that he won’t mind eating again later in the week if Taeil _doesn’t _show, but it’s a moot point—his doorbell goes off at ten to seven and it’s Taeil, asking to be buzzed up. He’s dead on his feet when he stumbles through the door, jet lag finally catching up to him, and he barely manages to eat half of what Johnny sets in front of him before he falls asleep sitting upright at Johnny’s tiny kitchen table.

Taeil asks if he can come back again the next night, and the night after that, and then doesn’t bother asking anymore. He doesn’t need to. 

Taeil’s been in New York for eight nights now, and he’s spent seven of them in Johnny’s bed—the one exception had been the night before he performed on the Today Show, and only because he hadn’t wanted to subject Johnny to his three AM wakeup call. Johnny’s more than made good on his promise to both tie Taeil to the headboard while he fucks him and to eat him out until he cries. He’s also had the favor returned and more by a very enthusiastic Taeil, and honestly? It’s been some of the best sex Johnny’s ever had with anyone, even the boyfriend he’d been with for two and a half years before he’d decided to move back home to Georgia.

But even more so than the great sex, they’ve settled into an almost domestic routine terrifyingly fast. Like, it shouldn’t even have been possible considering who Taeil is and what they are to each other, but it did. To Johnny, it feels like Taeil’s meant to be here with him, in his small apartment in the East Village overlooking the river. Like he’s always been an integral part of Johnny’s life that Johnny didn’t know he was missing before this week, but sure as hell does now. But Taeil’s due to fly back out to Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon, and Johnny doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

The most likely scenario is that Taeil bids him a fond farewell, and they keep in touch for a little bit after he leaves, but drift apart with nothing but fond memories of how they’d fucked on pretty much every available surface of Johnny’s apartment throughout the past week. Or maybe Taeil will slip out unannounced like Johnny’s been expecting him to do since the very first night they spent together, back in Seattle what feels like a million years ago now, either unable or unwilling to say goodbye. It would hurt, but Johnny’s an adult who has friends who would be more than willing to let him cry on their couch for a day or two if he needed to. He’d be fine. Eventually.

Taeil’s visibly anxious the entire night, which has Johnny on edge. It feels like Taeil might be psyching himself up to let Johnny down easy, which was an idea he had briefly considered but then dismissed mostly because he _hadn’t _wanted to think about it. If Taeil walking out of his life without another word is the worst case scenario for how this week ends, then Taeil trying to let him down easy and then walking out of Johnny’s life is definitely a close second.

It doesn’t happen, though. Instead, Johnny’s almost asleep, Taeil curled into his side in the darkness, when he hears, “Johnny?”

Johnny considers pretending to be asleep. But that would be the cowardly way out, and his mother didn’t raise no weak bitch. “Yeah?” he whispers back.

“I’ve been thinking,” Taeil says, quiet, and Johnny steels himself for _this has been fun, but…_

“About?” Johnny prompts when Taeil falls silent.

Taeil sighs. “About you,” he says, and Johnny has to tell himself not to flinch. “You’re not what I expected. At all. When we first met I figured you’d be like, really cocky and full of yourself like every other model I’ve met? But you weren’t. You were so nice and so hot, and I wanted you so bad. I thought I’d gotten it out of my system when we hooked up in Seattle,” he laughs, a little wryly, “but obviously not. You were different than anyone else I’ve ever had a one night stand with. You made me feel like you actually cared about _me _, and not just the fact that I’m famous.”

“I did care. I _do _care,” Johnny tells him, too honest. He wonders if Taeil knows that Johnny just ripped open his own chest for him. Probably not.

“I know that now,” Taeil answers, and the anxiousness that had begun to pool in Johnny’s stomach begins to subside just a little bit. “But I didn’t know that then, and it was driving me crazy. It’s why I didn’t call you when I found out the video was going to be released, and it’s why I _did _call you when I knew exactly when I’d be here. I just had to see you again, no matter what happened next. I wasn’t expecting this,” he continues, and Johnny realizes that maybe Taeil’s ripping his _own _chest open right now, brave under the dark of night in a way that neither of them could have been during the light of day.

“Taeil,” Johnny says. His heart is beating so fast that he can feel it in his throat, and he can’t bear to let this drag out any longer. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Taeil shifts so that he’s leaning almost over Johnny, his arms propped up against Johnny’s chest. “I’m trying to tell you that I really like you, and that I kind of want to date you even though we live and work on opposite sides of the country, you impatient jerk,” he huffs.

Johnny swears that his heart stops beating for a second. “Really?” he asks in disbelief.

“Really,” Taeil repeats. “I get if you don’t want to, it’s not going to be easy between the distance and the fact that we would kind of have to keep it a secret, at least right now? I’m hoping that the album will do well when it’s released next week and I’ll get more freedom to be myself, but I don’t know. I guess we’ll see what happens. But I do like you, and if I have a chance I want to take it,” he concludes, and Johnny can feel him shrug.

“You do, you have a chance, I like you,” Johnny tells him quickly. “I...I would have to tell Taeyong, though. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to not tell anyone,” Taeil says, and he sounds offended. “I just mean like, you can’t post about us on Instagram or tell anyone you think might leak it, intentionally or not. That kind of thing. Like I said, it won’t be easy, but if you want to try, I want to try.”

“So you’d be my...boyfriend?” Johnny asks, trying it out. He likes the way it sounds.

Taeil laughs, like he can’t believe what he’s about to say. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d be your boyfriend and you’d be mine.”

“I’m in,” Johnny says, butterflies exploding in his stomach. God, he hasn’t felt this way since he was fifteen and his first girlfriend told him she loved him, he’s pretty sure. “Boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Taeil echoes, and Johnny can hear the smile in his voice. 

* * *

“Yongie,” Johnny drawls excitedly, throwing himself onto Taeyong’s lap where he’s stretched out on his couch with a knitted blanket over his legs. He hadn’t given Taeyong a heads up he was coming, choosing instead to let himself in (with food, because he’s not a complete heathen), and frankly he thinks Taeyong should be more surprised by this than he is, really.

Taeyong pauses the movie he’d been watching before Johnny’s arrival. “You’re alive,” he comments. “You went off the grid there for a few days, and even though I expected it I was still starting to worry a little.”

Johnny stiffens. “Why were you expecting it?” he asks warily.

Taeyong gives him an odd look. “Because you took almost two weeks off from working,” he says, like it’s obvious. “You usually stay holed up in your apartment when you do that unless you run out of food.”

“Oh,” Johnny says, relaxing. “So Wendy didn’t say anything?”

Taeyong sits up at that, nearly knocking Johnny to the ground. “No,” he says slowly, “but now I’m wondering if there is something she should have told me about. What’s going on, Johnny?”

And okay, Johnny literally came here specifically to tell Taeyong about his good news, now that he’s got confirmation that Taeil’s landed safely back in Los Angeles, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a little nerve wracking. “So,” he starts, then stops. “Uhh.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Okay, I see this is going to take you a minute. I’m going to go get plates while you pull yourself together,” he says, standing up. He returns after about a minute with plates, utensils, and two bottles of water, and passes one of the bottles to Johnny without a word.

“I saw Taeil,” Johnny blurts out. Taeyong freezes. “Taeil Moon,” he adds.

“Yes, yes, the guy you got paid a lot of money to make out on camera with and then fucked in a hotel room,” Taeyong says carefully. “When did you see him?”

“Last Sunday, at Wendy’s bar. And, um. Every day since then,” Johnny admits.

Taeyong sits back down on the couch, the food Johnny brought forgotten. “Jesus. And you didn’t think to tell me?” he says, sounding a little hurt.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen,” Johnny says defensively, feeling a lot like an asshole. Taeyong’s his best friend, and he’s suddenly realizing what a dick move it was to leave him in the dark about the whole Taeil thing for a week and a half. If he were in Taeyong’s shoes, he’d be feeling really upset and hurt right now. “I thought we’d have sex again, then he would go back to his hotel when we were done and that would be that. Like, forever. But then he kept coming back to my apartment every night. I mean, I wanted him to, but after the first few days it was like neither of us questioned it, you know? And it’s…we….” he trails off helplessly, not sure what to say next.

“Johnny,” Taeyong says, putting a hand on Johnny’s knee and squeezing it. “Tell me what you came here to tell me. What’s going on with you and Taeil?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Johnny says bluntly, looking Taeyong dead in the eye. He watches Taeyong suck in a deep breath before exhaling slowly, heavily, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them again he looks at Johnny with something like pity in his eyes, and it doesn’t make sense.

“Johnny,” Taeyong says again, gently this time like he’s soothing a spooked animal. “Are you sure that’s the best idea? I was there when he told you about how shitty his company is and how they don’t want him to date other men right now. I know you like him, but what about _you _? You’re going to get hurt,” he frets. “I know how you are. You throw your whole self into a relationship and there’s a good chance you won’t get that reciprocated here. Not with everything he has going on.”

Johnny knows Taeyong might be right, but—“I want to try,” he says stubbornly. “I do like him, and he likes me, and we had literally some of the best sex I’ve ever had this week. Like, Tae—”

“Spare me the details, please. I’m not Yuta,” Taeyong grimaces.

“Fine,” Johnny laughs. “I will. But we talked about his company being shitty too, and while I can’t tell the whole world about it, he says it’s fine if I tell my friends and stuff. Like obviously I have to tell you, but I can tell Yuta and Jaehyun without it being a big deal. Well, maybe I can’t tell Jaehyun,” he amends, remembering Jaehyun’s penchant for running his mouth when he shouldn’t. “But it’s not like I’m going to be his dirty little secret, you know?”

“Are you sure about this?” Taeyong asks.

Johnny sighs. “I am,” he says quietly. “I just—I just think that if I didn’t see where this could go, I would regret it for the rest of my life. We have a connection.”

Taeyong laughs, but it doesn’t sound amused. If anything, he sounds exasperated. “I forget how much of a fucking hopeless romantic you are,” he says resignedly. “You know I support you no matter what, right?”

“Right,” Johnny says, relaxing. He lays his head on Taeyong’s shoulder, and Taeyong’s hand comes up to scratch at his scalp automatically.

“But…” Taeyong starts, then stops.

“But?” Johnny prompts.

Taeyong’s silent for a moment that feels like it drags out for an eternity. “But if he fucks you over, I will fuck him up,” Taeyong says eventually, so fiercely that it startles a laugh out of Johnny.

“I bet he has a security detail during public events and at his house, Tae. That would be kind of hard to accomplish.”

“I would find a way,” Taeyong says fervently, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s hair. “But hopefully I won’t have to.”

“Because it’s going to work out,” Johnny says, sure as he’s been of anything in his entire life. Because he is sure about this. He doesn’t know why, couldn’t put it into words, but he is.

“Or maybe because you won’t be hurt when it ends,” Taeyong says, always the realist. “No matter what happens, though, you’ve got a lot of people who love you and a lot going for you here. Don’t forget that. And don’t lose yourself in whatever this relationship ends up being, okay?”

“I won’t,” Johnny says. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)


	3. show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first: thank you again to Kerrie for betaing for me! love you!
> 
> second: you don't have to, but listening to [this song](https://open.spotify.com/track/0RFzFrnAIAQENAAp2hbrwb) while reading this chapter might prove helpful!

Being in a long-distance relationship is both easier and harder than Johnny had thought it would be.

It’s easier because Johnny’s friends are supportive. Or at least, the friends he feels comfortable telling are supportive—as much as he loves Jaehyun, Johnny doesn’t trust him not to slip up and tell the wrong person. Johnny’s not his only client with a large social media following, and so if Jaehyun fucked up and let it slip to one of his other vaguely famous clients, well. It could blow up in Johnny’s face in a hurry. 

It’s because of that that Johnny only feels a little guilty that he has to preface telling Wendy and a few other mutual friends he and Jaehyun have about Taeil with _ please don’t tell Jaehyun what I’m about to tell you _. He’s at least confident that it’s the right thing to do, even if it feels a little shitty now. But like—it’s not like it’s going to be very long until Johnny doesn’t have to keep his relationship with Taeil mostly hidden. So when the time comes that he can be more open about it, it probably won’t be very hard to get Jaehyun’s forgiveness (if it’s even needed; Johnny also kinda thinks Jaehyun might understand. It’s been a known fact that Jaehyun can’t keep a secret in their friend circle ever since he told Mark about the surprise party that was being planned for him an entire week in advance, after all).

But it’s hard because even though Taeyong is acting like he’s fine with things, Johnny knows he’s not, even almost a month in. While Johnny doesn’t talk about Taeil all day every day—even though he kind of wants to, sometimes—it’s not hard to miss how Taeyong changes the subject fairly quickly every time Taeil comes up in conversation. Even Yuta’s noticed, and Yuta doesn’t often notice Taeyong acting strangely since that conflicts with his firmly held belief that the sun shines out of Taeyong’s ass or whatever. 

So, yeah, when even Yuta is quietly asking Johnny if there’s any particular reason why Taeyong doesn’t seem to like Taeil, it’s obvious that _ something _is up. Even though Taeyong continues to either deny everything or just restate that he’s simply concerned about Johnny’s heart remaining intact whenever Johnny dares broach the subject with him, Johnny’s pretty sure that Taeyong knows that Johnny knows he’s lying about things.

It’s really too bad that they never swore not to lie to each other, although Johnny knows that Taeyong’s smart enough that he’d find a loophole anyway.

It’s also hard to only be able to communicate with your boyfriend solely though text or Facetime, even though Johnny _ knows _that he should be super fucking grateful that Facetime exists in this day and age and is something he can use to actually see his boyfriend’s face more days than not. But the time difference and their busy schedules sometimes make it hard to set a time.

Also, you can’t cuddle with someone over Facetime, and it sucks. Johnny’s a super tactile person, always has been, and when he has a bad day he generally just wants someone to cuddle him better. Or, on the flip side, when Taeil’s having a bad day, Johnny wants to do nothing but cuddle _ Taeil _better, but the nearly three thousand miles between the two of them makes that impossible.

It’s also really, really hard to gauge someone’s mood over Facetime, and Johnny’s learning this all over again the hard way.

Taeil looks...off, in a way that Johnny can’t quite put his finger on when Johnny answers his Facetime call just after ten o’clock one night in late October. Like his eyes don’t quite seem to fit his face, if Johnny had to try to explain it, but it might just be the video quality distorting the picture, or the light reflecting weirdly on the large circular glasses he’s wearing tonight.

Either that, or the distance is making Johnny go a little crazy, even if it has only been a month since they’ve seen each other—a month since they’ve started dating, even, which is a little too soon to be feeling this way. 

Johnny forces himself to put the negative thoughts out of his mind when Taeil smiles easily at him and greets him with a soft _ hey, baby, how was your day _? 

“Lazy. I took it pretty easy today,” Johnny answers. “I have a big shoot bright and early tomorrow though, I’ll be there all day. I told you about that, right?”

“Right,” Taeil agrees, shifting a little if the way that the picture shakes is any indication. 

“I thought you’d call me earlier today because of it, honestly, since you know I have to be on set before six o'clock tomorrow morning,” Johnny admits, immediately regretting it. Apparently he hadn’t banished the negative thoughts creeping in as well as he’d thought he had. 

Irritation flashes across Taeil’s face. He schools his face into a neutral expression quickly, but not quickly enough for Johnny to be fooled. “I had a rough day. I figured you’d want me to call you when I could instead of not calling you at all,” he says, sniffing a little. 

“I’m sorry,” Johnny says, not sure if he’s apologizing for being irritated with Taeil in the first place or for the fact that Taeil had a bad day. Maybe both, honestly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taeil visibly shifts again. “I told my company about us today.”

Johnny frowns. “But it’s been more than a month since you left New York,” he points out, “and you said you’d do that right away because you didn’t want…” _ me to be your dirty little secret _, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. Somehow Johnny knows, deep in his soul, that that would be the exact wrong thing to say right now.

“I know,” Taeil says, sniffling some more. “But I knew they would react badly, so I kept putting it off. And I was right, by the way,” he adds, wiping his nose with the edge of his wrist. “They’re pissed.”

“Taeil, are you okay?” Johnny asks, alarmed. “Are you coming down with something?”

“I’m fine,” Taeil snaps. “Tired, I guess. Irritated, because I had a shitty day. I just wanted to talk to you before you went to bed, that’s all, but not if you’re just going to keep bitching at me.” He moves the phone closer to his face, likely to rub at his nose with the hand holding his phone, and Johnny suddenly understands why he’d thought something about Taeil’s eyes had looked weird before—his pupils are blown wide, the brown of his irises all but swallowed up by the black of his pupils.

Johnny swallows down the snarky retort on the tip of his tongue, not wanting to pick a fight with his boyfriend—who’s clearly already in a bad mood and ready to throw down with any willing participant—when he has to wake up in less than six hours. “And like I told you, I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it. It’s hard for me to know you’ve had a bad day and not be able to comfort you in person,” he says patiently, hoping that that will be enough to pacify Taeil.

It must be, because Taeil’s entire face softens. “I know, and I wish you could,” he sighs. “I’ll tell you about it after your shoot tomorrow, alright? You should sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Johnny presses. Taeil’s right, he does need to sleep, but Johnny also knows himself well enough to know that he’s not going to sleep very much tonight anyway—he’ll be too worked up worrying about Taeil to do so.

Taeil smiles, but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I’m sure, Johnny,” he says. “Call me tomorrow when you get home, alright? I’ll be around all day, I don’t have anything important going on tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Johnny agrees begrudgingly. He _ really _doesn’t want to, but again: he doesn’t want to fight with Taeil right now, and he suspects that pushing back right now would spark the fight he’s been trying to avoid the entire ten minutes they’ve been on the call. “Goodnight, Taeil.”

“Good luck tomorrow, and sleep well,” Taeil tells him, disconnecting the call immediately after. 

Johnny stares at his phone long enough that the screen goes black. He’s not quite sure what just happened, and unfortunately, now isn’t the time to try and figure it out. Time waits for no man, after all, not even a man whose boyfriend is acting strangely.

* * *

Johnny isn’t surprised when Taeyong waltzes onto the set of Johnny’s shoot the next day around lunchtime, exactly, but he hadn’t been totally expecting it either. Taeyong usually shows up at the start of a shoot, or not at all, so when he hadn’t arrived by the time Johnny had gotten through makeup and wardrobe he’d kinda figured this was one Taeyong had decided to sit out for whatever reason.

Apparently not.

“Eat,” Taeyong says, dropping a rather hefty brown bag onto Johnny’s lap. “I know what kind of shit they’re going to feed you at a job like this, and you’re not starving to death on my watch. I promised your mother years ago that wouldn’t happen.”

Johnny laughs for what’s probably the first time all day. “Yeah, I think they have a salad bar on set. So I could probably grab a few hard boiled eggs or something for some quick protein if I had to, though.”

Taeyong shudders. “Yeah, no. You’d be hungry again after thirty minutes. I made you a burger and sweet potato fries. If I were you, I’d eat them quickly before the other models see and want to try and steal your food right out of your hands.”

“There’s some nice kids on this shoot,” Johnny shrugs. “If they asked nicely, I’d probably share with them.”

“You’re too tenderhearted sometimes,” Taeyong sighs. “Just eat, alright?”

“Fine,” Johnny concedes, mentally planning to save some of his fries for one of the kids—Yeosang, he thinks—who reminds him enough of Yuta that he has the urge to look out for him to the point where he’s considering slipping the kid his number (and maybe even Taeyong’s business card) before he leaves the set later this afternoon.

Johnny’s halfway finished with his (seriously delicious) burger when Taeyong says, “So what’s got you so upset today?”

Johnny nearly chokes on his mouthful of food. “What?” he sputters.

Taeyong sighs. “You weren’t nearly as excited as you normally would have been about me bringing you food. Food I cooked, at that. So that means that something’s wrong, and I would like to know what that something is,” he says, reminding Johnny of a cat that just caught the canary or something equally devious. “Did something go wrong with the shoot this morning?”

“Didn’t sleep well,” Johnny says, shrugging. It’s not even a lie. Sure, it’s not the whole truth, but it’s also not a lie, so he does have that going for him at least.

Taeyong makes a contemplative noise. “Talk to your boyfriend lately?” he asks innocently. 

“I talked to him last night,” Johnny replies, realizing a moment too late that he just walked into a very neatly set trap.

Taeyong _ pounces _ . There’s no other way to describe it. “Knew it. I _ knew _it. It’s a little early for you guys to be fighting, don’t you think?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Johnny exhales forcefully enough that his bangs lift off his forehead briefly. “I wouldn’t necessarily say we had a fight,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “He had a bad day, I was a little grumpy, it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll resolve it tonight.”

“You haven’t talked to him yet?”

“No. I got here at five thirty this morning, which is literally the middle of the night in LA. And I’ve been otherwise occupied ever since,” Johnny reminds him, giving Taeyong a pointed look. “And when I get home later, I’ll let him know I’m home and figure out a time so that we can Facetime or Skype and talk it out like the adults we are.”

That is, admittedly, Plan B—Johnny had originally been contemplating at least texting Taeil during his lunch break, but that had been before Taeyong had arrived with food. It’s probably for the best, anyway. If Taeil had still been ready to fight, Johnny’s just tired enough that he would have engaged him, photoshoot or no photoshoot.

Taeyong makes a discontented noise. “You know, I hate it when you’re the reasonable one between the two of us.”

Johnny laughs, leaning over to press his shoulder against Taeyong’s. “I know. I hate it too, it feels weird. Which is why you need to trust me with this,” he adds, dropping his voice lower than it probably needs to be. Everyone else on the set’s swarming the salad bar right now, so there’s no one who could possibly overhear them. Not to mention, neither of them have even mentioned Taeil by name, but like. Better safe than sorry, Johnny thinks.

“I’m trying,” Taeyong murmurs, slumping a little against Johnny’s side. “I really am. But it’s hard. I bet he hasn’t even told his label about you yet,” he says derisively.

Just like that, the knot in the pit of Johnny’s stomach he’s been trying to will away since last night returns with a vengeance. “He’s told them about me.”

“Oh?” Taeyong asks interestedly. “For real? Huh. I have to admit I was kind of expecting him to never tell,” he admits, face visibly brightening. “That’s a point for him, I guess. I still don’t trust him, but maybe I distrust him a little less now than I did two minutes ago.”

Johnny wraps the rest of his burger up. He doesn’t think he could manage to take another bite without throwing it right back up again. The fries he leaves out, though—Johnny’s still hoping he’ll be able to pawn them off on Yeosang before the shoot starts back up again.

“He’s a good guy,” Johnny tells Taeyong earnestly. 

“I think he’s trying his best, at least,” Taeyong says cryptically. “I can’t say for sure if he’s a good guy, though, since I don’t really know him that well yet.”

Weirdly enough, Johnny feels a little better at hearing Taeyong say that he doesn’t know Taeil _ yet _, even if he’s clearly taking a dig at both Johnny and Taeil while he does so. It implies that Taeyong thinks he’ll have a chance to do so in the future, even with him clearly trying (and failing) to hide the fact that he still thinks Johnny’s making a mistake that’s bound to blow up in his face.

“I’m sure you’ll get to know him better soon,” Johnny says, watching Taeyong’s face carefully to see how the other man reacts. His nose twitches, but that could be a genuine involuntary movement rather than him wrinkling his nose at the idea of getting to know Taeil better. Either way, Johnny will take it. It could definitely be worse. “You sticking around for the rest of the shoot?”

Taeyong stretches his legs out in front of himself and nods. “Yeah. I don’t have anything else to do this afternoon.”

Johnny suspects—no, knows—that this was very much intentional on Taeyong’s part. Taeyong has a habit of watching over Johnny’s bigger shoots like a hawk; he’s not intrusive or anything, but he definitely also makes his presence known. Other models Johnny’s met over the years have thought that it’s because Taeyong doesn’t trust Johnny to act professionally without his manager there to keep an eye on him, but Johnny knows it’s actually the exact opposite—Taeyong trusts _ Johnny _ to act in a professional matter, but he’s wary of most others in the industry unless they give him a reason not to be. They’d learned that one the hard way, unfortunately for Johnny.

“Cool,” Johnny says, yawning a little as he stands up. “Oh, by the way, I’m going to give the pink haired kid my number and maybe even your business card before we leave today. Just in case, you know? I feel like he could probably use them,” he adds.

Taeyong sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ll stop handing your number out to random people one day, right?”

Johnny laughs. “Probably,” he says, tossing his half-eaten burger into the nearest trash can. “Gotta go, Tae. See ya,” he says cheerfully.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Taeyong mutters as Johnny walks away.

Johnny ignores him. He’s got a baby model to hunt down and a job to do.

* * *

Taeil calls ten minutes after Johnny sends him a text telling him he’s home for the night, which wasn’t what Johnny had been expecting at all; if he’s being honest, he had kind of figured he wouldn’t hear from Taeil again until tomorrow at the earliest. This is good, though, Johnny thinks. The sooner they smooth things over, the better.

“Hello?” Johnny says.

“I’m sorry,” Taeil says immediately. “I was being a dick yesterday, and I can explain if you’ll let me, but I’m sorry.”

Johnny frowns, even though Taeil can’t see him. “Why wouldn’t I give you a chance to explain?”

“I don’t know,” Taeil says, and it sounds sulky even though the tinny speakers of Johnny’s phone. “Some people wouldn’t.”

“I’m not some people,” Johnny points out. “You can explain. I _ want _you to explain.”

Taeil draws in a deep breath, exhaling directly into the speaker of his phone. The sudden static makes Johnny flinch, but Taeil starts talking right after so he supposes that he can deal with it. “I told you I told my label yesterday. About us.”

“Yes,” Johnny confirms, resisting the urge to push.

Taeil laughs bitterly. “Yeah, they’re not happy. I knew they wouldn’t be, which is why I put off telling them. My manager is pissed at me too, because I think he got in trouble too for letting me just go do whatever the fuck I wanted, whenever I wanted, while we were in New York last month.”

“Whoever, you wanted” Johnny mumbles, unable to help himself from making a bad joke even at a time like this. Taeil obviously hears it, because he laughs again—thankfully, though, this laugh is a lot less bitter than the last one.

“Whoever I wanted, yeah,” Taeil agrees, snickering a little. “Yeah, exactly. I think he would have preferred I’d been out fucking a bunch of random people instead of just like, you exclusively, honestly, because it’s the one person part they have a problem with. The one person being a guy specifically, I think.”

“How bad was it?” Johnny asks softly.

“Bad,” Taeil says after a long pause. “Um. They wanted me to break up with you. Well, they gave me two options, which were either break up with you or to like, go on dates with people they choose and that the paparazzi just so happen to see so that no one would ever think I’m dating you, but it was kind of obvious that they would much prefer that we break up.”

Johnny closes his eyes. “So this is it, then?” he says dully.

“_ No _,” Taeil says sharply, “it isn’t it, Jesus christ. I told them I’m not breaking up with you because I really like you, and because there’s nothing they can do to force me to do so. It’s not in my contract that I can’t date, or that I can only date the people they want me to date. I literally had my lawyer double check that weeks ago. I’d go on a thousand fake dates with people I can’t stand before I broke up with you just because my fucking label thinks I should,” Taeil continues fiercely. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Johnny repeats. “Um. Wow,” he adds, laughing a little out of shock. “That’s...yeah. Wow.”

“Honestly, I was a little surprised that they jumped straight to trying to order me to break up with you,” Taeil tells him. “I’d thought that was the worst case scenario, or that it would take them a while to get to that point, but it happened. They also threatened to replace my current manager since he apparently doesn’t keep a tight enough leash on me, but I don’t know if they can do that either.”

“They can’t force you to change your manager. That’s a contract between the two of you, not the two of you and your label,” Johnny points out.

Taeil sighs. “They probably could if they really, really wanted to. They assigned him to me in the first place.”

Johnny frowns again. “Wait, you didn’t choose your manager? Seriously?”

“Nah. I didn’t have one when I signed my record deal, and the label suggested I let them find me one. Which I did, obviously, and I think he technically works for them before he works for me. But it’s worked out fine up until like, yesterday,” Taeil says, and Johnny can hear the shrug in his voice.

“But that’s like, a conflict of interest, isn’t it?” Johnny asks. Taeyong’s his manager, yeah, but he’s practically like Johnny’s lawyer or something. He literally negotiates the terms for just about every job Johnny takes in addition to keeping track of his schedule and ensuring that no one takes advantage of Johnny while he’s working. If Taeil’s manager works for his record label, then that means his manager’s probably going to put the label’s interests ahead of Taeil’s interests, and it doesn’t sit right with Johnny.

“I trust him not to fuck me over,” Taeil says, which doesn’t contradict what Johnny just said. “And I don’t think they’ll actually replace him. They were just trying to guilt trip me, but it’s not going to work.”

Johnny sighs quietly. He’s not sure if Taeil’s as convinced that everything’s going to be fine as he’s acting, or if he’s just pretending that everything is going to be fine for Johnny’s sake, but he doesn’t like this. At all. It feels like Taeil’s going to willingly subject himself to a toxic as fuck work environment just because he wants to be Johnny’s boyfriend, and it makes him feel vaguely guilty.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind about me. It would make your life a lot easier,” Johnny admits, shakier than he intends. But it’s not like he can take back the words now that he’s spoken them. He’s not sure he’s worth what Taeil’s about to put himself through. Or, more realistically, he’s afraid that Taeil will decide that Johnny’s not worth it in the end, and will grow to resent him at best, hate him at worst. Breaking it off now would be easier than Taeil hating him, Johnny thinks.

Taeil scoffs. “I’m sure,” he says confidently. “I’ll be fine. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay,” Johnny says, knowing even as he says it that it might be a mistake. But he does trust Taeil, and maybe Johnny’s being selfish, but he’s not willing to be a martyr right now and end things between them himself when Taeil sounds this confident that things will be okay in the end. Johnny also kind of suspects the damage has already been done, anyway.

“Thank you,” Taeil says, more subdued than he’s been the entire call, and—yeah, maybe Johnny’s being selfish right now, but he thinks it’s definitely for the greater good.

* * *

“So...are you going to eat that muffin, or just massacre it?” Johnny asks idly, watching as Yuta tears the banana nut muffin he’d paid six dollars for out of the kindness of his heart to shreds.

Yuta jumps, looking guilty. “Eat it,” he mumbles, shoving a piece into his mouth. Unfortunately for him, it’s a particularly large piece and he chokes on it, his face going red enough to cause some concern. He waves Johnny off though when he stands up, ready to pound him on the back or even give him the Heimlich maneuver if necessary, so he’s clearly not in enough distress to like choke to death in the middle of a coffee shop or something.

Johnny sits back down and sips his lukewarm latte patiently while he waits for Yuta to like, start breathing again. It takes longer than it probably should have, but then again, Yuta’s always had a bit of a flair for the dramatic.

“That muffin is super dry,” Yuta says finally, sounding—well, sounding as breathless as someone who just choked on a chunk of a dry banana nut muffin would. “And none of the baristas even cared that their product just tried to murder me.”

“I keep telling you this place is shitty,” Johnny says, not bothering to lower his volume. He doubts the employees will care that someone is trash talking their place of employment if none of them even blinked when someone was loudly choking in their establishment. “But no, you’re lazy and like the convenience. And look at what that almost got you. Death by muffin.”

“But you still agreed to meet me here. You can’t hate it too much,” Yuta whines.

Johnny scoffs. “You sounded like you were having an existential crisis over the phone. I would have agreed to meet you in the middle of Times Square if you’d asked me to. Please don’t ask me to do that, by the way,” he adds quickly, lest Yuta get ideas. 

“Aww, you do love me,” Yuta coos, reaching out to pinch Johnny’s cheek. Johnny jerks away so violently he almost falls off of his chair, and Yuta laughs uproariously, the asshole.

“Obviously,” Johnny grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “But seriously, are you alright? And I’m not talking about the choking thing, either.”

Yuta sighs, curling in on himself. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I need you to pull me out of my own head, I guess.”

“Taeyong’s better at that,” Johnny reminds him.

“Well, yeah, but this isn’t something I can talk to him about,” Yuta says, voice barely above a whisper, and suddenly Johnny understands.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, propping his elbows on the sticky table and leaning forward. “Is it happening?”

Yuta recoils. “You’re too close, dude,” he whines. Johnny leans back fractionally, just enough that Yuta visibly relaxes. “And. Ugh. Maybe?”

“Tell me everything,” Johnny urges. Maybe a little too enthusiastically, if Yuta’s wrinkled nose is anything to go by, but he doesn’t call him out on it.

“It’s dumb,” Yuta warns.

“Most things involving you are. Go on,” Johnny encourages him, ignoring Yuta when he flips him off.

“I went to one of those pop up Halloween festivals with Jackson and his new boyfriend over the weekend—”

“Halloween was a week and a half ago,” Johnny interrupts.

Yuta glares. “Spooky season has no end date, Johnny. And do you want me to confide in you or not?”

Johnny holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“Like I was saying,” Yuta huffs, “we went to a Halloween festival this weekend, and while we were there…” he stops, sighs. “Ugh, this is kind of embarrassing, I guess?”

Johnny sips his latte again, waiting for Yuta to continue. It’s so cold now that it’s kind of gross, but he paid a lot of money for this drink. He’s going to finish it.

“We saw Taeyong there with a woman none of us recognized, and you know that Jackson seems to know everyone in the entire city,” Yuta blurts out. “And I was so, so stupidly jealous that it ruined my evening even though I know he’s not dating her. Like, Mark convinced us to stop and talk to an obviously fake psychic and I couldn’t even laugh at him after because I was so upset about it. I guess it made me realize that, you know, if I don’t say anything he might actually find someone else and I’ll have to pretend to not be heartbroken every day of my life.”

“Why do you say she was obviously fake?” Johnny asks curiously.

“Because whenever they convinced me to ask her a question, she completely ignored it in favor of telling me some shit about how I need to look out for one of my friends more than ever right now because they just got themselves into a situation that’s going to be ugly and they’ll need the support of others close to them,” Yuta says dismissively. “Like what the fuck? But stop changing the subject, Johnny, I didn’t bring you here to tell you about the fake fucking psychic.”

Johnny cracks a smile. “No, you brought me here to...what, tell me you’re finally going to confess to Taeyong. Unless I’ve completely misunderstood the point of this conversation?” he asks. Goads, really—after all of this time, he knows how to spur Yuta into action.

“You didn’t misunderstand anything,” Yuta answers, his cheeks reddening. “I just need reassurance that it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had or anything, and advice about how to do it if you have any.”

Johnny closes his eyes, hoping Taeyong will forgive him for what he’s about to say if he ever hears about it. “Yuta. Taeyong is literally in love with you, but doesn’t realize that it’s not unrequited. The only thing bad about you confessing to him now is that you didn’t do it years ago. And you know him, you know? The only way you’ll fuck this up is if you continue not to say anything at all,” he says firmly.

Yuta scrunches his nose. “Are you sure?” he asks again.

“If you ask me that again, I swear to god I will find Taeyong a date myself,” Johnny threatens. He won’t, but he also knows that Yuta won’t call his bluff.

“Alright,” Yuta says, standing up abruptly. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Johnny blinks up at him. “You’re—you’re going right now?”

“Yep,” Yuta replies, pulling his coat on. “See ya.”

Johnny watches him leave, stifling a giggle when Yuta nearly trips over a small child near the entrance. This has been a long time coming, and he’s glad that one of them are finally taking initiative. Johnny had been convinced that he’d have to like, lock the two of them in a closet or something to get them to confess to one another.

_ Taeyong’s about to get his man!! _Johnny texts Taeil, unable to keep from grinning.

Taeil, surprisingly, texts back immediately. It’s still early in LA, not even nine AM yet, and Taeil’s a late sleeper unless he has somewhere to be first thing in the morning. As far as Johnny’s aware, he’s free almost all day. _ For real? Not a false alarm again? _

_ Don’t think so, Yuta seems determined _ , Johnny replies. _ Miss you, btw _, he adds, just because he can. They’d talked on the phone last night, but Johnny’s still, you know, trying to get used to the whole long-distance relationship thing. It’s easier now a month and a half in than it was at the start, but it’s still tricky. He’s found himself glaring at overly affectionate couples on the train more than once in the past few weeks, much to the amusement or annoyance of whoever’s with him when it happens.

_ Miss you too, babe. Facetime tonight? _

_ It’s a date _, Johnny answers, locking his phone with a contented sigh. Now that Yuta’s long gone, he has no reason to sit around this overpriced coffee shop all day. There’s a definite spring in his step as he leaves, though, and he can’t wait until he gets a recap of whatever’s about to go down from one or both of Taeyong and Yuta. He has a feeling it’s gonna be a hell of a story.

* * *

Someone knocks on Johnny’s apartment door around ten-thirty that night, and he nearly falls out of bed in surprise. He’s got another early shoot in the morning—he seems to have a lot of those lately, but it’s not a bad thing when they pay as well as they do—and so had bid Taeil an early goodnight almost an hour ago. 

It had been an awkward, stilted conversation anyway, one that Johnny was almost grateful to have an excuse to escape after less than an hour. Taeil hadn’t been in the best of moods, having learned from his label earlier that his first stunt date would take place in two days time, and Johnny himself had been antsy in the hopes that either Yuta or Taeyong would call him before he had to go to bed to tell him what went down after Yuta left the coffee shop earlier. It hadn’t happened, though, so Johnny’s got plans to corner Taeyong at his apartment tomorrow evening to squeeze any and all possible details out of him if needed.

The person at the door knocks again, and Johnny sighs. He’d sort of been hoping that if he ignored them long enough, they’d go away. Looks like that’s not going to be the case after all.

“Johnny, don’t make me use my key,” Taeyong’s voice says as Johnny reaches to unlock his front door.

Johnny scowls as he swings the door open. “Honestly, I wish you had,” he grumbles. “Then I wouldn’t have had to get out of bed.”

“Whatever,” Taeyong says, shoving the door closed behind him. He’s literally wearing his pajamas, and he’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, so Johnny thinks it’s safe to assume that Taeyong’s planning on staying over tonight. 

“You know I have to be in Jersey by eight in the morning, right?” Johnny asks warily.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I’m going with you,” he says, pushing past Johnny and heading towards the bedroom. “I just need to talk to you, and I didn’t want to wait almost another day to do so.”

Taeyong doesn’t _ look _upset, Johnny thinks as he follows him back to his own bedroom. He flips on the light for Taeyong’s benefit, but by the time he does so, Taeyong’s already toed off his shoes and is sliding under the covers on the usually unused side of Johnny’s bed. “Turn the light back off,” Taeyong says, squinting a little, and Johnny does.

“So, what’s going on?” Johnny asks, climbing back into his bed himself. Taeyong latches onto his arm like a koala, like he always does whenever Johnny shares a bed with him, and sighs.

“Today was a really weird day,” he says. “Not bad, none of it was bad, but it was weird and it was a lot. I need to tell you about it.”

Johnny recognizes the statement for what it is—a stalling tactic while Taeyong gathers his thoughts—and doesn’t push. “Start from the beginning?” he suggests.

“Well, I woke up at seven thirty this morning, and turned on the coffee pot before I went to the bathroom—”

“You asshole,” Johnny laughs, shoving Taeyong’s shoulder gently. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Start with the first weird thing.”

Taeyong laughs too. “Really? I thought you wanted a detailed play by play of my entire day,” he jokes. “Anyway. That kid you gave my business card to called me pretty damn early. Like, before nine, I think.”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise. “Yeosang? Already?” If Johnny’s being totally honest with himself, he’d expected that Yeosang would never end up calling Taeyong, or if he did, it would be months from now. He definitely never would have thought that Yeosang would call Taeyong after just a week or two.

Taeyong hums. “Yeah. He’s not happy with his current agency, to say the least. I guess he feels like they’ve put him in some unsafe situations? He definitely seemed to realize that I stuck around at that shoot for your benefit, not because you needed me there to behave yourself. He also mentioned the fact that I brought you ‘real food’, instead of encouraging you not to eat or anything like that.”

Even though Johnny _ knows _this is how the industry works, from both his own personal experiences as a rookie on the scene and from hearing horror stories from other models, it still makes his blood boil. “That’s really fucked up,” he says through gritted teeth. “I know that, you know that, but god. He can’t be older than twenty. He’s still a kid.”

“I know,” Taeyong says, exhaling heavily. “I know. I’m going to talk with him and a friend of his who’s apparently also in the industry in a couple days. I told him straight up I can’t make any promises right now, but told them to bring their current contracts along so I can see if there’s any loopholes or escape clauses in them. And if I can’t find anything, I’ll have Junmyeon take a look at them.”

Johnny nods approvingly, even though Taeyong can’t see him in the dark. If there’s anyone who can find a contract loophole, it’s Junmyeon. Especially if Taeyong tells him it’s to better the lives of a couple kids. “Good idea. What else happened?” he asks, even though he knows what’s probably coming next.

“Yuta showed up at my apartment after lunch,” Taeyong starts, and Johnny smiles a little to himself. There it is. “And he seemed like, really agitated? He kept saying he needed to talk to me, but then like, talking about the weather.”

Johnny just barely manages to stifle a laugh. That sounds like Yuta, alright. “But I’m guessing he eventually talked?”

Taeyong hums again. “Yeah. Yeah, he did. He told me that he’s in love with me.”

“Wow,” Johnny says, whistling lowly. He hadn’t expected Yuta to just blurt it out like that, but then again, maybe that’s exactly what he should have expected. “What did you say?”

“Well, first I asked him if he was serious,” Taeyong answers, and Johnny just _ knows _he’s blushing. “Which was dumb of me, because since when does Yuta say or do anything he doesn’t mean? But he surprised me, I guess. I know you’ve been telling me for years now that he liked me too, but this was just really sudden. I didn’t expect it at all. I was surprised,” he says again, and this time Johnny does laugh.

“I was beginning to think it would take an apocalypse for one of you to finally make a move,” he confesses. “What did you say once you stopped being shocked?”

“I told him that I loved him too,” Taeyong says simply. “And then he started crying and I started panicking because I thought I said something wrong, but no, he was just crying because he was really happy. And then we talked for a while about, well. Us, I guess?”

“About your relationship?” 

“Yeah. About our relationship. Because we have one now,” Taeyong laughs, a tinge hysterical. “Oh, he told me he doesn’t actually want to model. But I kind of figured that, because he never brought it up again after he agreed that one time, so it’s fine. I got a new couch for my office out of it that I figured out how to write off as a business expense for my taxes next year, so I’m not mad about it.”

Johnny snorts. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“Right!” Taeyong agrees. “And then eventually we went out for dinner, but Yuta made me promise that I wouldn’t think of that as our first date because apparently he’s had our actual first date planned out for a year and a half now. Who does that? Plans a date a year and a half in advance without ever thinking that hey, maybe I should actually ask this person out?” Taeyong asks.

“Yuta,” Johnny says dryly. “Also, you never asked him out either, so like. Glass houses and stuff.”

“Fine,” Taeyong huffs. “You got me there. Anyway, he left to go back to his place at like seven because he has an early class tomorrow, and then I took a bath and tried to relax so I could sleep but my mind wouldn’t shut up because, seriously, between Yuta and that phone call this morning it was a lot. I just wanted to talk to you about it all, but didn’t want to talk on the phone,” Taeyong continues, and Johnny nods. This isn’t the first time Taeyong’s showed up on his doorstep late at night when he’s had a lot on his mind, after all.

Johnny shifts so that he can look at Taeyong directly. His bedroom curtains don’t block out all of the lights from the city below them, and enough light shines through that he can see Taeyong’s face clearly. “Are you happy, Yongie?” he asks quietly.

Taeyong nods. “I am. I really am. I think this is going to be good,” he says, smiling a little. 

“Good,” Johnny says, laying back down. That’s all he wanted to know, and it makes the tiny amount of guilt he’d felt for telling Yuta about how Taeyong feels earlier that day disappear completely.

“How was your day?” Taeyong asks. “Anything interesting happen?”

For a minute, Johnny considers not telling Taeyong what Taeil had told him earlier, but it’s not like Taeyong won’t find out eventually. “I talked to Taeil tonight,” he says, careful. “His label told him today that his first fake date is going to be tomorrow or Thursday.”

He half expects Taeyong to have a snarky comment, like he so often does where Taeil is concerned. Taeyong proves him wrong, though, because when push comes to shove he’s still the best person Johnny’s ever known. “That sucks. I was hoping his label would change their minds about that. That’s going to be hard on both of you.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees. “He was kinda down about it tonight, but he still wants to go through with it. It’s just one time, right?”

“Right,” Taeyong agrees, yawning. “I bet he thinks it’s worth it. That you’re worth it.”

“I hope I am,” Johnny murmurs, so quietly that he doesn’t think Taeyong hears him. It’s the type of thought that should only be heard by the darkness, anyway. “I need to sleep,” he says, louder. Mostly, he just wants this conversation to end—he doesn’t actually expect to fall asleep easily tonight. Instead, he’s pretty sure he’s going to lie awake staring at the ceiling half the night, obsessing over Taeil’s situation.

Taeyong yawns again. “Me too,” he says sleepily. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Johnny says. 

Against all odds, sleep comes easily to him that night. Then again, Taeyong’s always been a source of comfort for him, so maybe it’s not that surprising after all.

* * *

“Johnny!” Taeil shouts, a little slurred and a lot too loud, when Johnny answers his phone two nights later.

“Oh, hey,” Johnny says carefully, shaking his head when Jaehyun’s head snaps up; Jaehyun had asked him if he’d wanted to go out for dinner and catch up after their workout session earlier that afternoon, and Johnny had eagerly accepted it. He’s regretting it a little now, since it means he has to choose his words carefully, but it’s not like he’d known Taeil would call this early. “Everything alright?”

“You don’t sound happy to talk to me right now,” Taeil answers, and Johnny can _ hear _the pout in his voice. 

Johnny clears his throat. “Gimme a second, alright?” he asks. He puts his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and says, “I have to take this, but it’s private. I’ll be right back,” to Jaehyun.

Jaehyun smiles genially. “Of course. Take your time, but don’t think I’m letting you skip out on the check,” he teases, dimples popping out.

“Thanks, Jae,” Johnny tells him, relieved. He steps out of the restaurant and onto the busy street outside—the rush of the crowd outside wanting to get home and therefore paying no attention to anyone else around them will afford him the privacy he needs. Gotta love New York, Johnny thinks wryly, even as he shivers. There’s no snow on the ground yet, but late November is no joke. He should have grabbed his jacket before he left, but then again, the waitstaff might not have looked too fondly upon that move.

“Johnny? Can I talk again?” Taeil whines.

“Are you drunk at—three in the afternoon?” Johnny asks after checking the watch on his wrist for the time and doing a quick conversion in his head. It’s just past six here in New York, so yeah, three in the afternoon in LA.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Taeil answers, a little belligerently, “and besides, m’not drunk.”

Johnny can’t help but laugh incredulously. “You’re not sober, though.”

“I had two glasses of wine at lunch. It’s fine,” Taeil dismisses. “I didn’t call you for you to lecture me, though,” he continues, and the audible pout is bad.

Johnny rolls his eyes a little, but lets it go. Today had to have been pretty stressful for Taeil, what with the lunch ‘date’ and everything, so Johnny can’t begrudge him a couple of glasses of wine at lunch time. Had he been in Taeil’s shoes, he probably would have gone for something stronger. “Sorry, babe,” he says, conciliatory. “How did it go?”

“Really well, actually, she was pretty fun to talk to and we just talked shit about our labels, mostly,” Taeil says enthusiastically. “And now my manager and label are both really happy and told me to take the next few days off and just relax. Which is why I called, are you busy this weekend?”

“I have another early morning shoot on Monday, but I don’t have any jobs scheduled at all tomorrow through Sunday. Why?” Johnny asks, even though he has a feeling he knows where this is going.

Taeil sighs. “Aw, man, I was going to offer to fly you out for a few days, but if you’re working Monday I can’t do that. You’ve been so busy lately,” he adds, and Johnny can’t tell if Taeil’s happy about it or not.

Johnny shakes his head, trying to dismiss the thought as quickly as it had come. They haven’t been able to talk quite as frequently over the last couple of weeks due to Johnny having to go to bed early most nights and the time difference, but Taeil’s his boyfriend. Of course he’s happy for him; he obviously just misses Johnny if he’s willing to fly him out to Los Angeles at the drop of a hat.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Johnny says anyway. “That would have been really expensive though. I wouldn’t have accepted it.”

“I can fly out there tomorrow morning, though,” Taeil suggests, steamrolling right over Johnny. 

Someone walking past him screams into their phone as Johnny sighs into his. “That would still be really expensive,” Johnny answers hesitantly.

Taeil snorts. “Yeah, but it’s money I’m spending on myself so it’s fine. I’m looking at flights right now, and they’re not as bad as you were thinking.”

Johnny closes his eyes. “Please don’t spend three thousand dollars to come see me this weekend.”

“I’m not,” Taeil replies, and Johnny has no choice but to believe him. “Alright, I’m going to land around five tomorrow. I’d ask you to meet me at the airport, but that’s probably a really bad idea.”

“Yeah, probably,” Johnny agrees. “I’ll wait at my apartment for you, though. Just let me know when you leave the airport, and if I’m not already home I’ll head that way then.”

Taeil’s silent for a moment. “Sounds good,” he says eventually. “I should let you get back to what you were doing. What were you doing, anyway?”

“Eating dinner with my personal trainer,” Johnny tells him. It’s obviously technically true, since Jaehyun _ is _ his personal trainer and everything, but it feels like a lie. Johnny doesn’t even know why he decided to phrase it like that, but it’s too late to change it now.

“Cute,” Taeil coos, and Johnny scoffs. “I’ll let you go, but let me know when you’re home, alright? I’ll Facetime you.”

“We’re seeing each other tomorrow,” Johnny points out.

“I still want to Facetime you tonight,” Taeil says seriously. “Bye, babe.”

“Bye,” Johnny says quietly, and just stares at his phone in his hand for a good thirty seconds after Taeil ends the call. Eventually, though, the cold wind is too much so he goes back inside to find Jaehyun again.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Johnny’s known Jaehyun for three years now, he’d never know the other man was a little annoyed. As it is, though, Johnny can see the slight tension around the corners of his mouth. “Took you a while,” he says, confirming Johnny’s suspicions.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Johnny says, apologizing for the second time in less than ten minutes. “That took a bit longer than anticipated.”

Jaehyun gives him a probing look. “You alright? Did you get bad news in that call or something?”

“No. I mean, no, I didn’t get bad news. I’m fine,” Johnny assures him. “Everything’s fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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